


An Idiot's Guide to Ectopic Birth

by CrunchySalad



Category: Sex Pistols | Love Pistols, Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Crossover, Explicit Sexual Content, Long and Complete, M/M, Mpreg, Multiple Pairings, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-20
Updated: 2010-06-11
Packaged: 2017-10-19 10:57:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 45,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrunchySalad/pseuds/CrunchySalad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kamio finds out the evolution didn't exactly happen as he was taught in school. Sex Pistols characters show up in chapter 8.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Confusion

**Author's Note:**

> This is a crossover with Sex Pistols, but even if you've never read Sec Pistols, I'll explain everything eventually. At any rate, the Sex Pistols world doesn't exactly make sense, so you'll have to suspend your disbelief for this fic as well.

Kamio might have figured things out for himself if he hadn't been so oblivious. Perhaps if he didn't spent so much time absorbed in his music, bouncing to the beat coming out of overly large headphones, he might have put two and two together. But as it was, he had to admit he was more than a little shocked.

"What did you just say?" he all but yelled, caught mid-stretch, Shinji holding him down by his feet. One thing in all of Shinji's mumblings had somehow gotten through to him, but Kamio didn't really think he heard it right, because it was just too weird. Shinji wouldn't spring some thing like that one him, right before their first Nationals match, would he?

"I said, I think I like Tachibana-san," Shinji muttered, and Kamio reminded himself that Shinji always was a little odd. If any one would divulge a piece of information like that at a time like this, it would be Shinji.

"What?" Still, Kamio couldn't quite grasp the concept.

"I like Tachibana-san," Shinji said again, before turning away to let out some inaudible mutters. He turned back after a moment though, reading Kamio's expression for Kamio didn't know what. "Are you mad?"

"No..." More like really weirded out. Kamio had absolutely no inkling that Shinji liked their captain... not that they all didn't like Tachibana, just not, like, romantically. Kamio had always imagined Tachibana as a kind of older brother figure, smart and strong and all of theirs, like communal property, and the thought of Shinji and Tachibana as a couple creeped him out more than anything. "Why would I be mad?"

"Maybe you like him too. We tend to like the same things. Like when we were in elementary school, and I really wanted to buy that Doraemon backpack, and you got angry and wouldn't let me because you said you liked it, even though-"

"Okay, okay," Kamio interrupted, sure he didn't want to spend the next few minutes listening to Shinji go off on another tangent. "I don't like him. Not like that anyway. It's just... I dunno... it's a little strange."

Shinji looked a little down for a moment, his expressionless face shifting in a minute way that Kamio could read only because they spent so much time together.

"You don't have to worry about it being weird," Shinji finally said, "I don't think he likes me back."

"Oh." Caught between awkwardness and an obligation to comfort his best friend, Kamio wasn't sure what else to say, so his mind automatically turned back to tennis. "Let's get back to the team."

"Yeah."

Later on as they sat on the bleachers, Kamio couldn't help but turn his glances towards Tachibana every now and then, wondering what it was about him that Shinji liked. But then again, it really wasn't that hard to understand. Tachibana was good looking and charismatic, kind, and really cared about them. Still, Kamio couldn't help but imagine Tachibana and Shinji going on dates, and that would probably mean he'd end up spending less time with both of them, and maybe he'd end of being the fifth wheel when they all went out together.

That would be really hard, Kamio thought, and he reprimanded himself when he found himself thinking that maybe it was good that Tachibana didn't like Shinji back. Shinji was never really good at reading people anyway... it could have been that Tachibana liked Shinji very much, and Shinji just didn't realize it.

It kind of made Kamio sad, and made him wonder what it would be like to like somebody like that. It might be nice to have some one to take care of him, the comfort of a large chest and deep voice... but then he shook his head as he blushed, clearing it of such embarrassing thoughts. It's not like he knew any guys anyway, aside from his teammates, and they were more like family then anything else. There was that baka from Seigaku, but Kamio shuddered at the thought.

He was still thinking about the topic when it was time to go home, and left early by himself to give Shinji a chance to be alone with Tachibana. Besides, he needed some time to think about things. So maybe he wasn't paying attention when he crashed into something, or rather some one, but that didn't stop him from yelling out rather angrily.

"Hey, watch out!" Kamio bit out, looking up to see the fairly disgusted face of some one who was entirely too familiar.

"I could say the same to you," Atobe Keigo replied, but apparently that was all he would condescend to say, and he turned away and started to walk off. Kamio could hear him say something that sounded like "idiot monkey", followed by Kabaji's familiar "usu", but it's not like he had time to worry about anything Atobe said or did.

* * *

"I told you, I'm not sleeping with you again," Akaya ground out, his voice the usual half-whine it always was. Unfortunately, that didn't stop Sengoku from groping him, and at the moment the redhead's face was buried in his neck, a hand on his ass.

"But Kirihara-kun, didn't you have fun last time?"

"No!" Akaya lied, as he tried (and failed) to dislodge himself from Sengoku's grip. "Besides, you like girls!"

"But you smell so good... and besides, you're special..."

"Having trouble, Akaya?"

Akaya looked up, embarrassingly, to see Yanagi standing mere feet away from the. Shit. Now his sempai were probably going to make Jackal escort him everywhere again... and here he thought he had proven himself capable of watching out for himself. Quickly, to salvage what dignity he could, he aimed a swift kick at Sengoku, half guilty half proud as the boy let out a painful yelp and fell over.

"I can take care of myself," Akaya said, a proud lift to his chin.

"Yes, I'm sure you can. Come along now."

Akaya spared one last semi-guilty look at Sengoku, then jogged up to Yanagi's side, his face shifting into an expression of grumpy petulance. Yanagi was quick to notice, despite the fact that he hadn't turned to look at Akaya once since they had met, and was equally quick to comment on it.

"Is something troubling you, Akaya?"

"No," Akaya muttered, and this time Yanagi did spare him a glance, an amused smile on his face.

"You know that with Yukimura back, things will go back to normal."

"Whatever," Akaya grumped. He was really happy to have his buchou back, he was, but then he had been really happy when Yukimura was gone and Sanada and Yanagi had invited him to scout other team's matches in Yukimura's place. It made him fell... well, proud, that they would ask him to go with them. But now Yukimura was back, and they had forgotten all about him. He wanted to see the end of Seigaku's match too...

"Though, I suppose, other things will have to be changed. Yukimura himself looked for you, you know, to ask if you would accompany us... unfortunately, you were nowhere to be found."

"Really?" Akaya perked up at that, and his pout was soon replaced with a happier countenance. Yanagi inwardly chuckled at the sudden change... Akaya's moods were so easily manipulated. The episode with Sengoku, though, had him a little worried, and as they reached the area where Sanada and Yukimura were already sitting Yanagi took it upon himself to pull their fukubuchou aside. The three of them stood in the shade of a nearby tree, Yukimura only sending them a sideways glance as they disappeared.

"I can take care of myself," Akaya whispered his oft-repeated litany, though they were out of earshot of any other people.

"Sengoku was hitting on him," Yanagi explained to Sanada, "and it's not as though other people weren't accidentally brushing up on him on our walk over here."

Sanada was scowling now, but that wasn't much of a change from his usual expression. "If you were better at controlling your kon-gen, this wouldn't happen."

"I can't help it," Akaya whispered vehemently, "it's mating season."

"Exactly," Yanagi countered, "it will be astounding if you don't get yourself kidnapped or raped in the next few weeks."

"Hey, I took care of that last guy that tried to mess with me."

"And you were almost suspended for it," Sanada reprimanded.

"I didn't know he was a substitute teacher!"

"The point is," Yanagi interrupted, always calm, "we'll have to take extra precautions when it comes to you. Sanada, can you take care of it?"

"Fine," Sanada replied, seeming neither happy nor bothered by the request.

Akaya, for his part, was relieved that they hadn't assigned him twenty-four hour supervision. Seigaku's game was pretty much over, so as Yanagi went back to speak with Yukimura, Sanada gave his a soft push forward. Get going, it said, and Akaya stumbled into step, Sanada always close behind him.

They made the bus trip to Sanada's house in silence, neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, and Akaya was pleased to see that people were staying away from him. He knew it was because of Sanada; even monkeys, with their lack of senses, were somehow able to intuit the "keep away" pheromones of a territorial heavy-weight.

Sanada loudly proclaimed "I'm home" as they stepped through the threshold of a large, traditional Japanese house, and as they removed their shoes Akaya could hear a "Welcome home" drifting in from somewhere in the kitchen, spoken in the soft, dulcet tones of Sanada's mother's voice. Akaya liked her; she had taken a liken to him as well, though that was probably due more to what he was than who he was, and was always keeping him over for dinner. But there were other matters at hand now, and he could say hello to Sanada's mother later, so instead he took the familiar path up to Sanada's bedroom.

Sanada had kept a small distance from Akaya since they had left the tennis courts, but even he wasn't immune to the pheromones Akaya was giving off, and when he closed the door to his bedroom he was almost in a daze. Without even being aware of it he pulled Akaya back, closer to him, and then Akaya's back was against his chest and he buried his face at the nape of Akaya's neck. It never ceased to amaze him how good Akaya always smelled, and as he breathed in he licked and nibbled at the soft skin of Akaya's neck.

Akaya leaned his body back, leaned his head back, and Sanada marveled at how docile Akaya was in bed... it had surprised him the first time they had slept together, but it had been a pleasant surprise. Akaya turned around then, his lips soft and his mouth hot as they kissed, his tongue gently lulling Sanada's into his mouth. Somehow, kissing, they stumbled onto Sanada's bed, and Akaya could feel hands fumbling at the waistband of his pants. It was so hard to think now, everything was so hot, and though he was only vaguely aware of kicking off his pants and boxers he was completely aware of the cool, air-conditioned air on his cock, and Sanada's long fingers arching into his ass.

Akaya moaned, arching his back as Sanada fucked him with his fingers, pushed up his shirt and pressed kisses onto his chest. It felt so good to have something inside of him again, he wished Sanada would finger fuck him forever, but then he was pulling out. Akaya gave a little mew of disappointment, but he could hear the sound of a zipper opening, and he moved onto his side as Sanada laid down behind him. A strong hand was on his thigh, lifting his leg into the air, and he could feel something hot and hard and big and wonderful pushing at his ass. It hurt when Sanada started pushing into him, even if they had done this so many times already, and Akaya's fingers dug into a pillow as he clenched his eyes shut.

"Sorry," Sanada mumbled, his voice a heated whisper against Akaya's ear, one hand holding Akaya's leg open and the other guiding his cock inside that tight heat. Akaya's insides felt so soft and hot, and Sanada let out a groan as he mounted him, his large cock head sliding in with one last push. "I'm... almost in."

Akaya felt himself being stretched to the limit as Sanada pushed into him, as he slid deeper and deeper into his ass. But it was easier now, and when Sanada was all the way in it felt so good to be so full. He reached down, grabbed his own cock, and started pulling on it with short jerky tugs. Sanada was pulling out again, then pushing back in, groaning as he started to build up a rhythm as he started really fucking the boy. His thrusts bordered on violent, so hard they made the bed creak, but Akaya loved it, loved being fucked like this. His ass felt swollen and raw, but so good as Sanada kept stabbing into him, and they must have fucked for half an hour before Akaya came, cum spurting onto Sanada's cotton sheets. Sanada followed moments later as Akaya clenched down on him, shooting jet after jet of semen deep into him. Even after he stopped coming he continued to fuck the boy, until his cock was too limp to do any more, and fell out with a gentle plop.

Afterwards there was the smell of sex and the sound of heavy breathing, and that content dizziness that always followed orgasm. It was like some kind of asphyxiation, but after awhile Akaya had come down enough to turn around, wrapping an arm around Sanada's waist and putting his head on Sanada's chest. He felt Sanada's arms wrap around him, one hand burying itself in his hair and the other settling on his hip, and Akaya marveled at how affectionate Sanada could be in bed... it had surprised him the first time they had slept together, but something he quite enjoyed.

"Are you meeting with Atobe today?" Akaya finally asked, only because he was curious, and his voice was a husky, sleepy tone.

"Mm hm," Sanada replied, fighting against sleep himself. "We still have some negotiations to deal with, but first Atobe has to tutor some kid."

"Do you like him?"

"That's neither here nor there, Akaya."

"But do you?"

"Not any more than anyone else," Sanada replied, not sure why Akaya was all of the sudden asking this. "Did you think I liked him?"

"Well..." and Akaya trailed off in that way he did when whatever he had to say might end up making Sanada mad.

Sanada's eyes narrowed. "Well what?"

"Yanagi-sempai says that you're... well, that you're a menkui*. And, you know, every one's always going on about how good looking Atobe is."

Sanada twitched. He was now fully awake, afterglow having come and gone. "I am not a menkui."

"Yanagi-sempai says you used to have a big crush on Yukimura-buchou when you guys were first years."

"That was before I found out he was insane."

"Sanada-fukubuchou!" Akaya scolded, though it sounded more like a whine. "Just because buchou likes your brother doesn't mean he's crazy."

Sanada couldn't really follow that statement... why else would Yukimura be interested in his bully of a brother? At any rate, a quick glance at his clock told him that it was time to get some clothes back on, and he herded Akaya out of his bed. After making themselves presentable Sanada opened his door, only to see that his brother's door across the hallway was open as well, and Yukimura was sitting at his computer desk.

"Sanada. Could you please explain to me why you're sleeping with Akaya, when I thought you were going out with Atobe? And why is it that every one's been talking about 'mating season' and 'monkeys' lately?"

"Sorry, Gen-chan," Sanada Kentarou said, from his perch on his bed, "I think we're going to have to explain things to Seichi here."

 

* menkui: some one who's easily taken in by good looks


	2. Explanation

Kamio wasn't particularly looking forward to going home, even if he had left the tournament early. He thought it might be nice to give Shinji some time alone with Tachibana, but now he remembered what was waiting for him at his house. He played around with the idea of going to get something to eat, or maybe bicycling around the neighborhood a few times, but then decided it would just make his mom even angrier if he was late.

But really, it wasn't his fault! After all, he was vice-captain of the tennis club, so he had a lot of responsibilities to take care of... it's not like he was stupid. Okay, so, he wasn't the smartest person in the world, and maybe he wasn't even that on level, but he definitely wasn't stupid.

Dejected, he stumbled into his foyer, where his mother was of course waiting for him.

"Where were you?" she scolded, herding him upstairs after he took off his shoes, "Your tutor's been waiting for a few minutes now!"

"But I don't need a tutor," Kamio mumbled in complaint, a statement which prompted his mother to smack him once on the back of his head. "Ow!"

"Maybe if you weren't failing all your classes, I'd have an easier time believing you."

Kamio sighed, resigned to the fact that he would have to spend the next two hours (and two hours three times a week until he brought his grades up) with a tutor who would no doubt be one of those pompous, know-it-all types. Still, as awful of a scenario as he had painted for himself in his mind, it still didn't prepare him for what he found when he pushed open his bedroom door.

"You!" he shouted, at once shocked and horrified. "What are you doing here?"

From the floor pillow next to Kamio's low table, Atobe Keigo looked up from his books and smirked, and Kamio knew at once that he had lost this round of their little game. "I'm sorry. Do I know you?"

Kamio could have thrown his backpack at Atobe's smug face, but as it was his mother was pushing him into the room and throwing a smile at Atobe.

"Thank you for taking care of my son," she said, before closing the door and leaving.

"You know," Atobe drawled, his expression one of great satisfaction, "when I was first asked to take this job, I could hardly believe it. A second-year student whose only passing marks were in physical education? Ludicrous, I thought. It was only my duty to lend a helping hand. Of course, I had no idea that you were said student... though, really, I'm not terribly surprised."

Kamio glared as Atobe snickered at his little joke, not at all amused by the sudden turn of events. "Don't you have something better to do? Like forcing girls who aren't interested in you on dates?"

"There's no such thing as girls who aren't interested in me," Atobe corrected, "only girls who play hard to get. Now, won't you sit down? You're wasting my valuable time."

Well aware that his mother was downstairs, Kamio grudgingly took his seat at the table. Just two hours, he thought... two hours. He could get through this. But then there were the two hours on Monday, and Wednesday, and the Friday after that... inside his head Kamio groaned. He needed to bring his grades up and fast.

Well, just because Atobe was his tutor didn't mean he couldn't try to ignore the other boy as best he could. He reached into his backpack for his mp3 player and headphones, and almost (almost, but didn't) yelped when Atobe smacked his hands away and confiscated his beloved source of music.

"Distractions like these," Atobe remarked, placing the mp3 player next to him on the floor and quite out of reach of Kamio, "are exactly why you are failing. Get out your math homework, we'll start there."

"Stupid jerk," Kamio muttered under his breath, deliberately loud enough for Atobe to hear, but either Atobe didn't notice or he chose not to say anything about it. He reached into his backpack for the proper textbook and got out his notebook, checking to see what problems he had due tomorrow. He snuck a glance at Atobe, but the other boy seemed to be immersed in his own homework. Some tutor.

Tearing a piece of paper out of his notebook, Kamio set to work on the first problem, but he hadn't even gone two steps when Atobe interjected.

"Wrong. All wrong. Really, I can't believe how far from right you are."

Kamio turned bright red. "I know I don't get this! That's why my mom got me a tutor! Isn't this what you're here for?"

"Calm down," Atobe said, in quite a condescending tone of voice, "I was just getting to that. Now, look here..."

Atobe scooted closer, and in a tone of voice that was surprisingly patient and gentle, explained exactly what Kamio was doing wrong. Okay, Kamio thought, calming down a little bit, maybe Atobe wasn't that bad of a tutor after all. Kamio had to admit, albeit very grudgingly, that the guy was smart. When Atobe finished explaining Kamio wordlessly yanked the paper back and started the next problem.

After that Atobe was unexpectedly straightforward, no arrogant or snide remarks, one eye on Kamio's work as he did his own. He would lean over every now and then when Kamio was on the wrong track, fingers ghosting over Kamio's homework as he explained certain concepts or equations. They finished math soon after, and then it was on to Japanese, and English after that.

Gradually, Kamio became aware of a strange smell whenever Atobe would lean over. It was... funny, he thought. Or rather, it made him feel funny, dizzy and faint, but the smell itself was actually very sweet. Kamio felt his heart race, just a little bit faster, could feel his eyelids drop just a little bit down. The text on his paper made no sense to him... they were scribbles now... it was so hard to concentrate.

"What's wrong with you?" Atobe asked, but his voice was so distant now. "You've just been sitting there for the last few minutes."

"I..."

But Atobe was leaning forward again, looking over Kamio's homework, and the smell was so strong now.

"You're... pink."

"What..."

And Atobe's fingers were on his cheek, brushing his hair out of the way. "Your face is flushed."

"No, it's not," Kamio protested, his voice soft and weak, and Atobe was right there, and he smelled so nice, and Kamio couldn't help but lean forward... his fingers were tangled in Atobe's shirt, his hair was brushing against Atobe's chin, the soft skin of Atobe's neck pressed against his cheek.

"What's this..." but Atobe was reaching out too, a hand on Kamio's back and the other threading through Kamio's hair. "So you're not just a monkey after all."

"What?" Kamio asked in a daze. His body felt so hot all of a sudden, and Atobe's hand was moving, pressing between his legs, alerting him to the fact that he was currently very, very hard.

"You know," Atobe murmured, as Kamio arched into his hand, "I wouldn't mind fucking you."

Somewhere, deep inside Kamio's mind, he wondered what was going on, wondered why he wasn't hitting Atobe upside his very arrogant head right at this moment. But that tiny part of his mind was fully and utterly overshadowed by everything else that currently comprised his state of being, and that everything else was telling him that he needed to have sex right now.

"Lean over," Atobe ordered, his voice low, and somehow Kamio's body was moving on his own. His movements were instinctual now, and he wasn't even conscious of it as he leaned forward on the table, though he was very much aware of Atobe moving behind him. There was a hand on his hip, a hand on his head, and he was being pushed farther down, his cheek pressed against the wood laminate. A shift, fabric against his skin, and he realized that Atobe was pulling his pants down.

There... Kamio moaned, feeling it, a hand wrapping itself around his cock, a bulge pressed between the crack of his ass. There were fingers pressing against his lips, so he parted them, suckling as the fingers pushed deep into his mouth. He arched, pushed back against the hardness behind him, and then those fingers were pulling out, leaving a trail of saliva down his chin.

"Easy now," Atobe laughed, as Kamio couldn't keep his body from arching backwards again, "I'll put it in soon enough."

"Hurry up and do it," Kamio managed to pant out, tensing as he felt a wet finger push into him. But he shivered, it felt so good, and then there was another one... "More..."

"More? Already? You're an eager little slut, aren't you?"

Kamio clenched shut his eyes as he felt something stiff and blunt pressing against him, and then pressing inside of him... it hurt, but he needed it so badly, this feeling. Atobe was pushing into him now, inch by inch, and even if it hurt he wanted more, wanted so badly to be completely filled.

He could feel Atobe's hips against his ass, could feel Atobe's cock deep inside him, and then the other boy was moving.... God... it felt so good. Kamio gasped with every thrust, and he was sure he could come like this, just by being fucked, and he wouldn't even need to touch himself. But then he felt Atobe come inside of him, could feel the cum filling him, leaking out of him, and he really did orgasm then, slim body shuddering as he came.

He came so hard, so much, his cock still jerking as it overwhelmed him... it was too much, and then he couldn't take it any more, and everything went black.

Sleep, for a little bit, and everything was warm and fuzzy and just plain nice.

When Kamio woke up, first there was confusion. What was he doing in his bed? Why was he naked? Why was his backside sore? That last question led to a flood of memories, which then led to extreme embarrassment. His face turned bright red as he burrowed into his covers and wondered what had come over him. He couldn't believe he had just slept with another person at all, let alone Atobe Keigo, the biggest jerk Kamio had ever met.

"Asshole," Kamio mumbled into his pillow, sure that this was all Atobe's fault. He must have been wearing some kind of aphrodisiac as a cologne or something, the pervert! Now suitably angry, and deciding that angry was an emotion he could definitely live with, Kamio jumped out of bed as he decided he would exact a suitable revenge, only to fall down onto the floor as pain shot up from his ass. "Oww..."

Well, before that, maybe he should get up and meet with Shinji.... they were supposed to get together to hang out after dinner.

And hour later Kamio was dressed and at the park, only to see Shinji already sitting on a park bench, looking a little bit irate and mumbling to himself. As he got closer he could make out Shinji's utterances, and wasn't surprised to find they were mostly due to his being late.

"Oi, Shinji," he said, jogging up to his friend and sitting on the bench, "sorry I'm late."

Shinji turned, his expression a scowl of annoyance, though it changed instantly into one of surprise (surprise for Shinji, at least) when he saw Kamio.

"Kamio? Since when were you a madararui? I'm pretty sure you weren't a madararui when I last saw you, so it doesn't really make sense now, and I can't believe you slept with Atobe Keigo..."

"What?!" Kamio sputtered. He had been confused when Shinji started his rambling, but- "What the hell makes you think I slept with Atobe? Did he tell you that? Because he's a liar! And what the hell is a madararui?"

Shinji gave him a strange look for a moment before speaking again. "What do you mean what's a madararui, you are one, so you should know. And of course you slept with Atobe, his smell is all over you."

"I did not sleep with Atobe!" Kamio screamed, flushing with embarrassment when a little old lady looked over disapprovingly at him. He was even more embarrassed, though, when all of the sudden Shinji leaned over and pulled on Kamio's pants, presumably to look for evidence.

"Hey!" Kamio shouted, swatting Shinji's hands away. "What are you doing?"

"Fine," Shinji muttered, all of the sudden petulant, "don't tell me that you slept with Atobe. Keep it a secret. After all, I'm only your best friend, and I only tell you everything. Well, you can just see if I tell you anything about madararui."

"Shinji, please," Kamio asked, feeling a headache began to grow it the back of his head, "please, please, just explain everything to me, I'm so confused."

"Did you sleep with Atobe?"

Kamio hesitated, for a few moments, really loath to admit it but figuring Shinji somehow already knew any way. "Maybe."

Shinji sighed, but capitulation was written all over his face. "Fine, I guess that's as far as you'll go. Now, how do I explain..."

There was silence for awhile, and Kamio figured, it was just his luck that Shinji wouldn't be able to find the words when it was about something Kamio really wanted to know.

"You know how people are descended from monkeys?" Shinji finally asked.

"Yeah."

"Well, there are people who are descended from other animals too. They're called madararui. Well, any way, most humans are descended from monkeys, so we're a minority."

"I'm a madararui?" Kamio asked, not sure if he was really getting this.

"Well, today you are. You weren't yesterday. I wonder if you'll be one tomorrow..."

"Shinji, can you please just explain some more?"

"Oh. Sorry. Any way, madararui can be descended from six different orders of animal... the cat family, the dog family, umm... bears... dragons... snakes, and mermaids. That's what you are, a mermaid, or rather a fish, you look like some kind of eel, and mermaids are really, really rare, you just don't see them these days."

A mermaid? Weren't mermaids women with tails? But Shinji had just told him that he looked like an eel. "Shinji, how can you tell I'm a mermaid? How exactly do I look like an eel?"

"I can see your kon-gen."

Kamio blinked. Did Shinji really expect him to know what the hell he was talking about? "What the hell is a kon-gen, Shinji?"

"It's... I guess... you can call it the appearance of your soul, or the appearance of your animal spirit. Usually people hide their kon-gen, but you can see it when they're tired or emotional or maybe unconscious, or if you try hard enough, but it's pretty rude to look at some one's kon-gen when they're hiding it and you don't have permission. But I can see yours pretty clearly right now, and it looks like an eel. You should do something about that, you know, it's not safe to walk around like that, it's almost like you're naked right now, and some pervert might try to rape you, especially since you're a rare species..."

Not wanting to go down that road, and deciding that had already happened to him, kind of, Kamio interrupted again. "How come I can't see your kon-gen?"

"Because I'm hiding it. I'm a dog. A Shiba, to be exact. I'll show you my kon-gen sometime, when we're not in public. Besides, you were a monkey until today, so maybe you just haven't developed the ability to see kon-gen yet. Monkeys can't see them... they're pretty oblivious to madararui."

"Is that, like, common? For a monkey to become a madararui?"

"No. I've never heard of it."

"Oh." Kamio frowned. This was all a little weird, but he swore he had just seen a hyena with a briefcase walking down the street for a moment before it turned into a salariman, so maybe it wasn't as farfetched as all that. "Hey... when you said you could smell Atobe on me, what did you mean?"

"Well, I guess you'll find out, since you're a madararui now, but we're a lot closer to our animal ancestors than monkeys are to... well, real monkeys. We're a lot more instinctual than monkeys, so we can do things like smell others out. I can smell Atobe all over you... really, did you let him come in you or something?"

Kamio turned a bright red before he was able to sputter a response. "What... what are you talking about?"

Shinji gave him a sideways look. "Whatever. It's not hard to smell Atobe, since he's a middle-weight. It doesn't surprise me that you slept with him, actually, since he's a middle-weight he gives off a lot of pheromones."

Ah ha! So it was all Atobe's fault. It was most definitely rape, Kamio decided, he hadn't voluntarily slept with Atobe at all. The thought made him feel a little bit better about himself. "Umm... what's a middle-weight?"

"Well, madararui, and monkeys too actually, can be classified into three categories... light-weight, middle-weight, and heavy-weight. Heavy-weights are the strongest, and have abilities the others don't, so they're really respected. But there aren't a lot of heavy-weights in Japan, so middle-weights are prized just as much. Light-weights are the weakest, but they're the most fertile, so heavy-weights like to breed with them sometimes. I'm a light-weight, but you probably guessed that already, since I told you I was a Shiba. I don't think there are any heavy-weight dogs in Japan."

Actually, the last thing Kamio was thinking about was what weight classification Shinji was in. He was too busy taking in this information... it was a lot. But he figured he had the basics down. But everything kept coming back to one thing. "How come I just suddenly turned into a madararui?"

Shinji shrugged. "That one I can't answer for you."

Kamio sighed, perplexed, when out of the corner of his eye he saw the much to familiar face of one Atobe Keigo.

"Him!" Kamio shouted, jumping out of his seat. "Sorry, Shinji, I've gotta go."

He was so going to make Atobe pay for earlier, Kamio thought, as he raced towards the other boy.

* * *

"So..." Yukimura tapped his fingers on the countertop, chin resting elegantly in his palm. "You're telling me you're descended from animals that aren't monkeys? And that you call yourselves madararui?"

Akaya nodded enthusiastically, clearly impressed with Yukimura's ability to grasp the subject so easily. "You know, buchou, a lot of monkeys wouldn't understand even if you told them about madararui, they just wouldn't want to believe it. You're really amazing."

"Yes, yes, Akaya, I know. So Kentarou and Genichirou are descended from the cat family, they're both heavy-weights, and they're snow leopards. Okay. Fine. But both your parents are monkeys, Akaya, or so you just told me, so how can you be a koala bear?"

"Akaya's a retrograde," Sanada explained. "Retrogrades are very rare... most people don't ever see one in their lifetimes. They happen when an ancestor is a madararui, and the madararui genes happen to manifest themselves in a future generation."

"Hmm. I see. And retrogrades are highly prized."

"Because they're rare, and because they have madararui characteristics and monkey fertility rates."

"It's nice to know at least that monkeys are good for something," Yukimura said, a bit scornfully. Apparently he had pieced together that monkeys were not at all prized (to put it politely) in the madararui community, which explained why Sanada's mother had always treated him with such disdain. And Yukimura Seichi was not used to being treated like he was inferior in any way. "So, because it is mating season, and Akaya is having a hard time controlling his kon-gen, potential mates have been giving him problems. So your solution to this is to sleep with him."

A slight blush rose to Sanada's face, though it was so light it was barely visible. "Yes. Other people will smell me on him, and because I am a heavy-weight, they will think twice before laying hands on him."

"And Atobe?"

"We're... engaged, in a way," Sanada explained. "It's a tradition in our extended families, for various branch families to mate with one another. Atobe is related to the head dragon clan in Japan, and the Sanada household is the part of the head cat clan in Japan."

"And you're okay with this, Akaya?"

Akaya smiled and nodded his head. "Yeah. I mean, Sanada-fukubuchou's just helping me out with a problem, that's all. It's not like we can't sleep with other people."

Yukimura looked at them dubiously. He didn't quite believe things were as simple as all that, but as long as neither of them was getting hurt in this relationship he wasn't going to interfere. "So polygamy is acceptable for madararui."

"Basically," Sanada replied.

"But not for me, baby," Kentarou interjected, "you're the only man I need."

Sanada shuddered at the thought of Kentarou and Yukimura together, before realizing he was late to the negotiations with Atobe's family. "I have to go."

"Can I come too?" Akaya asked, eyes beaming. "You can take me to get ice cream afterwards."

"Fine, Akaya, but hurry up."

Yukimura watched them go, Akaya skipping alongside Sanada's longer strides. There was definitely more there between those two than they were admitting to themselves. Well, whatever.

"You know," Kentarou said, an eyebrow arched and a suggestive tilt to his voice, "we have the whole house to ourselves now."

Yukimura smiled. "So we do."

The prospect of sex was so enticing that Yukimura, normally so astute, had forgotten to ask about one major detail. Sanada had said something about mating with Atobe, but... how on Earth did two men mate with one another?


	3. Imprisonment

Kamio still wasn't quite sure how it happened. One moment he was screaming and yelling and otherwise making a scene while stomping after Atobe into some hotel, the next moment he was being stuffed into a (rather posh) room and being told, with an exasperated sigh, to sit still and be a good boy. One quick second later Atobe was gone, the door shut tight behind him, and Kamio wondered what the hell kind of hotel had locks on the outside of the rooms?

He banged on the door a few times, to no avail, before pouting and kind of... flopping... onto the bed. But, my, this was the most luxurious comforter Kamio had ever laid on in his life. He wondered when Atobe would be back, if in fact the bastard would remember to come back at all, and he wished there was a mini-bar in the room. Not that he would actually drink any alcohol... pouring it all down the sink would be enough, if only to see Atobe's face when he got the bill. Kamio laughed at the thought, apparently not bright enough to realize that such a bill would amount to pocket change to somebody like Atobe Keigo.

Kamio rolled over, looked out the window, and started to regret the fact that he had come here at all. What was the point, really, of following Atobe, and why was he always so hotheaded all the time? He thought about Atobe, and about Shinji and everything he had said about madararui, and he wondered why he was all of a sudden a part of this world. Kamio must have laid there, just thinking for close to an hour, before he became aware of noises coming from outside the room. It sounded like some one... eating? Pushing himself off the bed, Kamio padded back over to the door, where he knocked a few times.

"Hello?" he questioned. "Is any one there?"

There were definite footsteps then, drawing closer until whoever was there was right on the opposite side of the door. Kamio could hear some one turn the lock, and then the hinges of the door creaked as it opened...

"You!" he yelled, eyes narrowing as he realized exactly who had just freed him. "What are you doing here?"

"Huh?" Kirihara Akaya blinked at him, confused. "Who are you?"

And, unlike some people who seemed to find posture and pretense highly amusing, Kirihara seemed to really not know who he was. For some reason it just made Kamio angrier.

"What do you mean who am I? You only completely injured my buchou during a tennis match!"

"That... doesn't really narrow it down."

"Fudomine! I'm Kamio Akira from Fudomine!"

More confused blinks before sudden realization. "Oh... you're from Tachibana-san's team."

"Tachibana-san? Since when were you so nice and respectful?!"

"Why don't you just relax?" Akaya asked, his expression half scowl and half pout. "If your buchou already forgave me, who are you to give me crap about it?"

"… I guess you're right…" Kamio muttered, his mouth pulled into a frown. He really hated how Tachibana and Akaya were so amiable with one another these days, but more than that he hated not knowing when and how their relationship had gotten so friendly in the first place.

"Look, look," Akaya went on, his eyes half circles as he smiled and made his way over to a table loaded with food. "You hungry? Cause I can share."

"You're not going to try and injure me or something, are you?"

"Why would I do that? You're not even good at tennis, so I wouldn't get anything out of it."

Kamio could feel his teeth grinding together, but he made his way towards the table nonetheless. It was the first time he really took a look around the room, and realized that he was in some kind of penthouse. The room he had been in before hadn't been a hotel room but a bedroom in an even larger hotel room… his eyes widened as he looked around. This suite was bigger than his house.

"Jesus… does this penthouse take up the entire floor?"

"Yeah," Akaya replied, in the middle of stuffing his mouth with what looked like shrimps wrapped in phyllo dough. "It takes up the entire top floor of the hotel. Hey, have some smoked salmon."

Kamio wondered at Akaya's insistence that he eat, but then he spotted a bowl of chocolate covered fruit among Kirihara's harvest, and snatched it up from the table before running to settle into the couch. "Where'd all this food come from?"

"Duh," Akaya said, rolling his eyes, "room service."

"Isn't it expensive?" Kamio mumbled, his lips around a strawberry. It was the best chocolate covered strawberry he had ever tasted in his life.

"Probably. Sanada told me I could order whatever I wanted, but I think he only said that because Atobe's paying."

The mention of Sanada made Kamio pause and realize it was rather odd for two Rikkai players to be here, in what was presumably Atobe's penthouse, running up Atobe's tab. "You… what are you two doing here with Atobe?"

"Don't you know?" Akaya asked. "Sanada and Atobe are here to arrange their marriage."

Kamio sputtered on a cherry seed. "What… how…"

"Hey," Akaya said, eyes taking on a mischievous gleam, "why don't we go spy on them? I wonder what they're talking about…"

The last thing Kamio wanted to do was spy on Atobe as he arranged a marriage with another boy, and where exactly was something like that legal anyway? What he really wanted to do was get out of here and forget all about Atobe, but then Akaya was grabbing his arm and pulling him to his feet.

"Hey!" he started, but only stumbled into the other boy as he was pulled into an elevator. A portion of his mind gaped at the fact that there was an elevator in the middle of the penthouse, but before he could wrap his brain about it Akaya was pulling him out again and into what looked like the lobby area. He tried to jerk out of Akaya's grasp, mumbling to the other boy to let him go, but soon realized that it only made the people around stop and stare at him. Not wanting to cause a scene at the posh hotel, Kamio settled on a grumpy countenance and an occasional twitch, but Akaya's vice grip on his arm remained as strong as ever.

"I think it's this way," Akaya said, pulling Kamio past what looked to be a staircase leading down to a ballroom. They were in a more spacious area now, and Kamio could see that some of the rooms were filled with long tables and office chairs. This was probably some kind of conference area, he thought, and then Akaya was pulling him into a hallway labeled 'Staff Only'.

"I don't think we're supposed to be here," Kamio whispered, voice harsh as he cast a glance around for anyone who might catch them there.

"But I'm pretty sure this hallway leads to all the lounges… hey! That's it, do you hear that?"

Akaya seemed to hold his breath in order to hear better, and, sure enough, Kamio could hear the muted sounds of voices coming from an adjoining room. He and Akaya tracked the soft noise, finally coming to a nondescript door, which Akaya shoved open just the tiniest bit.

"Ssshhh," Akaya said, an outstretched finger in front of his mouth, and Kamio rolled his eyes. As if he needed Akaya to tell him not to make any noise.

The two settled around the small gap, trying to peer in, but from his position Kamio couldn't see anything but a tall plant, part of a couch, and the back of what he thought was Sanada's head.

"… if you refer to clause 4A of the prenuptial agreement, and then cross reference that with the second contract that was handed out…

"I don't think this is the room," Kamio said, "They're talking business in there."

"What do you think this marriage is?" Akaya asked. "They're not marrying each other out of love."

Kamio frowned at that and looked back into the room. "Are madararui marriages done for politics and business?"

"I don't think it's a madararui thing," Akaya answered, "I think it's an upper-upper class thing."

Kamio kneeled down, resting his legs a little bit as he peered into the room. From the conversation he could guess that Atobe and Sanada both had their fathers and lawyers present, but it was all really very boring, and he would have just left right then and there if he had remembered the way out.

"… and then on to the more domestic areas of the negotiations, in regards to children…"

"He'll be the mother," came two voices, and Kamio realized that both Sanada and Atobe had said that at the same time.

"Mother?" Kamio tapped Akaya on the shoulder, interrupting Akaya from his snickering. "What do they mean mother?"

"What do you mean what do they mean?" Akaya asked, confused. "They're arguing over who has to carry their children."

Kamio was sure he was completely pale at the moment. Carry a child? He shook his head, deciding to pretend that he had just misheard.

Meanwhile, in the room, Kamio could see that Sanada was standing up and was in somewhat heated discussion with Atobe, but then their lawyers were calming them down and moving to another topic.

"Of course," came a woman's voice, and Kamio had already identified it as Atobe's lawyer, "monogamy will be required. It would besmirch the Atobe name if Genichirou-kun were to have extramarital affairs, even if it is with a retrograde. To think if Keigo-sama's husband was seeing some one else… it's preposterous. Our pride won't stand for it."

There was silence, and then Sanada's voice. "Not see Akaya?"

Kamio looked over at the boy standing next to him, but Akaya was staring intently into the room, mouth just a little agape as he gripped the doorframe. There was whispering, mumbling, Sanada's father saying something to his son.

"You can't expect us to give up a retrograde," Sanada's father said, "you know how rare those are."

"That's exactly what we expect you to do," Atobe's lawyer replied. "It's what you'll have to do if you want this merger to go through."

More mumblings, and then Sanada's father. "That's fine."

"Say something," came Akaya's voice, his eyes focused on Sanada, but the other boy didn't say anything, and then they were moving onto a different topic.

Akaya's knuckles were ghost white now from their grip on the door, and Kamio felt a little sorry for him. Obviously Akaya and Sanada had some kind of relationship going on; God knows they were both psychopathic enough to deserve each other. He reached out towards the boy, watched as Akaya's eyes squeezed shut.

"Kirihara," he said, not knowing what to say, "I'm sorr- gah!"

Kamio jumped back as Akaya's eyes snapped open again, only now they were a bright, bloodshot red.

"I can't believe you didn't say anything!" Akaya all but shrieked, and then he was throwing open the door and charging into the room.

"Kirihara!" Kamio yelled, trying to get the other boy to come back to his senses, but then had to look away as pieces of glass flew through the air towards him. Apparently Akaya had started throwing things. It sounded as though he was breaking a lot of things, and through the commotion Kamio thought that maybe he could hear chants of 'Die!Die!', but that might have been his imagination. Once when he looked up he thought he saw a koala bear with a monkey tail in Sanada's arms, completely mauling his face with its claws before running out of the room. Sanada ran after it, the commotion died down, and Kamio looked up to see Atobe standing over him.

"Really, what part of 'sit still and be a good boy' don't you understand?"

Atobe pulled him to his feet, and they both looked in to survey the damage that Akaya had caused.

"You do realize that you'll be paying for this," Atobe's father said to Sanada's father, both of them frowning.

Atobe looked at Kamio, then back at his father, then back at Kamio. Atobe really did feel a little sorry for Sanada… after all, he had been a dear friend for a long time, and Atobe didn't want him to have to stop seeing Akaya because of something stupid like a marriage.

"Maybe," he said, eyes on Kamio in a way that made Kamio very, very nervous, "we can renegotiate."

* * *

Sanada ran down the crowded streets, ignoring completely the people that stopped in their tracks to gasp and stare at him. His face stung, and he could feel the sticky wetness on his skin and taste the iron on his lips. He wondered exactly how much his face was bleeding, if he was going to need stitches or not, and whether or not he could have Akaya de-clawed.

"Akaya! Stop!"

"No!" Akaya shouted back, yards ahead of him and plowing through bystanders like they were nothing. "Go away!"

"I thought you were okay with me and Atobe!" Sanada bellowed, realizing he was causing quite a scene and hoping Akaya would run into an emptier street.

"I am! Go back to him! Go be happy with Atobe and be happy never ever seeing me again!"

"Akaya-" Sanada started, but then he was tripping over some one's foot and landing on the floor. He landed palms first on the pavement, and then when he turned himself over there was a crowd formed around him.

"Are you okay, young man?"

"Do you need any help?"

"I'm fine," Sanada said, and though he grunted it out he tried to do so as politely as possible. He was about to start running after Akaya again when he felt a hand around his arm. He turned quickly, about to yell at whoever it was to let go, and found himself face to face with a policeman.

"Young man, I think you should get those injuries taken care of."

An hour later, after the police had put bandages over the cuts on his face (miraculously, no stitches were needed) and determined that he was not some strange gang member, Sanada found himself trudging home. He felt tired and grumpy, and when he stepped over the threshold and into his house the last thing he wanted to hear was his mother calling out, "Genichirou, where were you? Akaya was here a little bit ago, but he left already."

This did not bode well. Akaya's destructive powers when he was angry were a truly impressive thing. Sure enough, once Sanada made his way up the stairs and down the hallway he found himself staring into a mess of broken furniture and trash occupying his once pristine living space. It looked like a very localized hurricane had touched down in the middle of his bedroom. He proceeded to shut the door, preferring not to look at that horrendous match, before making his way back out of the house.

He needed to find Akaya, who he was just a little upset with. Akaya should have known, after all. They were just negotiations, just a starting off point, and Akaya should have known that there was no way Sanada would ultimately agree to give up seeing him.

He went to Yukimura's house first, knocking on the door and hoping that Kentarou wouldn't answer Yukimura's door wearing nothing but a towel like he did last time. Sanada shuddered to think. Luckily, when Kentarou opened the door, he was fully clothed.

"Hey, bro," he said, looking down at Sanada. "What are you doing here?"

"Didn't you just spend three hours with Yukimura at our house? Why did you need to come over here?"

"What can I say? That's what love does to you." Kentarou's grin was huge and idiotic, and it made Sanada cringe. Their faces were near identical, and yet Kentarou was always contorting his into expressions that Sanada would never be seen with, lest he die from complete and utter mortification.

"Is Akaya here?" Sanada asked.

Yukimura appeared behind Kentarou then, his expression turning to mild concern as he took in the bandages on Sanada's face.

"Your injuries won't affect your tennis, will they?"

"No," Sanada replied, and then again, "is Akaya here?"

"I haven't seen him since you two left to see Atobe. I take it the meeting didn't go well?"

Sanada shook his head no before mumbling a curt goodbye and leaving. Akaya had more than likely gone into hiding at one of the tennis club member's houses; if he wasn't at Yukimura's house, he was probably with Yanagi or Marui. After all, Jackal had forbidden Akaya from ever going to his house again, and it was unwise to show up unannounced at Yagyuu or Niou's house. Sanada shuddered, remembering the first and last time he had done so, and the horrific images that would forever be burned into his retinas.

He found himself making his way to Yanagi's place. It was only a ten minute walk away, and soon enough he was knocking on the familiar oak door. It opened after a moment, Yanagi coming into view, inch by inch.

"Genichirou, what a pleasant surprise."

"Is Akaya here?"

"Hmmm…" Yanagi pretended to ponder over the question, a finger to his lips. "He just might be…"

"Renji," Sanada snapped. "Is he here?"

Yanagi chuckled a little at Sanada's impatience. Typical. "I'm under strict orders not to let you in. Akaya doesn't seem to want to speak with you."

"I don't care. I'm coming in to see him."

Sanada moved his arm to push the door in, but Yanagi tightened his grip on it at the same moment.

"Be rational," Yanagi said, his voice with the same placid authority it held whenever he wanted Sanada or Yukimura to do something his way. "Let him calm down. You can talk to him in the morning."

Sanada let a small sigh escape his lips. "Maybe you're right."

"Until then," Yanagi continued, with a growing smile on his face that made Sanada's eyes narrow, "I'll take more than adequate care of him for you."

"Renji," Sanada near-growled, but before he could continue Yanagi had shut the door in his face. "Renji!"

He grabbed the handle in an attempt to jostle the door open, but it wouldn't give way. He kicked it in disgust before making his way to the backyard. Like hell he was leaving Akaya alone with Yanagi right now. But he was pretty sure he knew where he could find Akaya, and sure enough, once he got around the house and was able to peer into their half-open den window, there he was. Stuffing his mouth with Yanagi's mother's cookies and mashing a Playstation 2 controller at the same time.

"Do you want more milk, Akaya?" came Yanagi's voice, most likely from the vicinity of the kitchen.

"Yeah!" Akaya called back, though the word was mumbled with cookie chunks.

Sanada pushed the window all the way open. "Akaya. You're coming back to my house. Now."

That was when Sanada found himself being pelted with cookies. He wasn't sure what happened next, but when Yanagi came into the room a few moments later, Akaya was yelling things and clinging to the sofa, Sanada's arms around his waist as he tried to pull him away.

"Genichirou. Akaya," Yanagi said, effectively freezing the two of them for a moment… before they went back to yelling and screaming and making a mess out of his house. He frowned, but it wasn't until he saw his mother's favorite gold Buddha being pulled off the shelf that he realized he needed to say something. "Both of you, stop it!"

The statement managed to stop them for enough time for Yanagi to pull Buddha out of Akaya's fingers and get their attention. "Akaya, Sanada didn't mean what he said about never seeing you again. Nothing's official until it's on paper, especially in these kinds of negotiations. And Sanada, really, sometimes you can be just as immature and spoiled as Akaya; it's amazing that the two of you can actually function as a couple."

"We're not a couple," Sanada mumbled, but at least the two were splitting apart now. Sanada plopped himself down on the couch as Akaya sank to the floor, both of them sitting awkwardly. Great. Now that he had gotten them to understand the situation, they seemed to have lost the motivation to do anything about it.

"Now get out of my house."

Sanada frowned, but he got up, pulling Akaya along by the back of his shirt. "You heard him. Let's go."

He pushed Akaya forward, looking back as he got to the door. By then Yanagi had made his way into the room to sink into the couch, a tired expression on his face. There was a glimpse, of something, in his expression, and Sanada would have been oblivious to it if he hadn't known Yanagi for years now. He pushed Akaya out into the hallway, turning back to face Yanagi.

"Sorry," he said, and Yanagi looked up, startled, whatever was written on his face before now gone.

"Hmm?"

"For causing you trouble."

Yanagi blinked. "Where did this come from?"

"Just… well, you looked like… like maybe you were a little sad. From having to deal with us all the time." Sanada shook his head. "Nevermind."

Yanagi smiled slightly, amused, and watched as Sanada made his way out of the room.


	4. First Date

"Kamio." Atobe's voice was soft as he put an arm around Kamio's waist. An arm that Kamio would normally protest, but he was beginning to get dizzy again. "You must have had a hectic day so far. I'll have some one drive you home.

Kamio was practically buried in Atobe's chest now, he was leaning so far towards the other boy. "I don't need. . ."

But then Atobe was gone, Kamio leaning into empty space for a moment before straightening himself. He watched Atobe's back as they boy left with his father and army of lawyers. With each step Atobe took away from him, Kamio could feel himself becoming more clear-headed.

Kamio brought his hands to his cheeks, feeling the flushed skin there. Shinji had said that Atobe gave off a lot of pheromones, but it was still embarrassing to react so strongly to them. Added to that was the confusion Kamio was feeling due to the fact that Atobe was actually being a little bit nice to him.

"Kamio-san."

Kamio looked up at the voice. There was a man in front of him, smiling gently.

"If you'd like to go home now, there's a car waiting outside."

"I can walk," Kamio muttered, cringing as he realized how rude it might have sounded.

"Oh, no, the Atobe family insists. If you'll just follow me."

Kamio followed the man out of the hotel, and climbed into a silver mercedes that was waiting there. Soon enough he was back at home, taking off his shoes and stumbling into the kitchen.

"I'm home," he mumbled.

His mother, who was stirring something on the stove top, replied with a "welcome home." She turned around, the pot in her hands. . . only to drop it in surprise as she caught sight of Kamio.

"Mom!" Kamio exclaimed, as soup spilled all over the floor. But his mom was still looking at him with huge eyes that were starting to tear up.

"Akira," she said, sounding as though she were about to cry, "I thought we raised you better than that."

Kamio could almost cry himself, he was so confused. "Mom, what are you talking about?"

"Kamio Akira," she snapped, hands coming up to wipe her eyes, "I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"No. . . I really don't."

"I'm talking about your virginity! You're too young to be having sex!"

Kamio could feel all the color drain out of his face as some mixture of fear, guilt, embarrassment, and shame flooded through him. How. . . how did his mother know? She was full out crying now, muttering something about being an awful mother.

"Umm. . . Mom," Kamio said, "I think you have to explain some things to me."

After awhile Kamio managed to calm his mother down and have her sit down at the kitchen table with him. Tears were still running down her cheeks, but at least she wasn't crying so much that she couldn't talk.

"You see," she started, "every person has what is called a kon-gen. That kon-gen is your soul's appearance. For most people, who are descended from monkeys, their kon-gen is a monkey. But there are people who are descended from other animals; these people are called madararui. I'm an eel, and your father is a dog. Only madararui can see other people in their kon-gen form, since we're more in tune with our animal sides than monkeys. Of course, most of us control our kon-gen so we always look like people, but we can revert into our kon-gen, to various degrees, depending on how weak or emotional we are at the moment. For us, this could range from releasing an eel-like aura, to walking around with gills, to completely turning into an eel, and everything in between.

"The eel is actually a rare species in the world. All mer-species are. Because of this we're sought after. When you were born, we took you to a specialist in order to protect you from kidnappers. He put a spell on you so that you would always appear as a monkey, until you met your first mate."

Here his mother broke out sobbing again. "And now, at such a tender age, you have!"

Kamio's head was spinning. He was glad that Shinji had explained part of it to him before, so that he wasn't completely lost in his mother's speech.

"Who. . . who is he?" his mother asked, in between sobs.

Kamio turned bright red for the umpteenth time that day. He considered not telling her, or lying, but in the end figured his mother was upset enough as it was.

"Atobe," he managed to mutter, completely embarrassed.

Suddenly his mother's tears had completely dried up.

"As in Atobe, your tutor? As in Atobe Keigo from the Atobe family?" She was practically beaming at him now, a smile spreading across her face. "Well, in that case, I wholeheartedly approve of your relationship."

She stood up and pulled a very shocked Kamio into her arms. "Don't screw this one up, Akira."

* * *

Sanada and Akaya walked to Sanada's home in silence, Akaya following about two steps behind. All of his anger had fizzled out by now, but that didn't mean he wanted to talk to the other boy. Stupid Sanada. Stupid Atobe. But mostly stupid Sanada.

As they came closer to Sanada's house Akaya could feel the hairs on the back stand up. He shivered, knowing what it meant. . . Sanada-san must be home. Sanada's father was an older, bigger version of the two Sanada brothers. The feline aura he gave off was so intimidating that Akaya got scared even being in his presence, despite the fact that Sanada-san had never really done or said anything to him.

Sure enough, they were taking their shoes off when Sanada-san came into the front hallway.

"Genichirou." Sanada and Akaya froze, every muscle tense. Sanada-san's face was completely expressionless, eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses, but anger was rolling off him in waves. "I want to talk to you in my study. You too, Akaya."

The two boys didn't move until Sanada-san left the room, and then they exchanged worried glances with each other. But they went obediently to Sanada-san's study, where they both kneeled down in front of Sanada-san's low-lying table.

"Genichirou," Sanada-san started, "your antics today have shamed the Sanada family name. The merger could have been called off completely because of you. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Sanada bowed his head down, sending a little evil glare Akaya's way. "I'll contact the Atobe family right away to offer my apologies."

"There's no need. We've already come to an agreement."

Akaya's head snapped up at that, while Sanada's eyes widened imperceptibly. Sanada could feel his mouth go dry. "What. . . are the terms?"

Sanada-san leaned forward, his expression making it clear that no argument would be brokered. "There will be no marriage. But a child will be born, to solidify the bonds between the two families. You will carry it."

Sanada's expression turned white. Akaya, on the other hand, felt as though he was going to pass out from stifling his laughter so.

"There's also the matter of a mate for Keigo, since it would be unseemly for you to be seeing a retrograde while he has nothing comparable. There's a fish he's interested in. Do what you can to help him in that regard."

"Yes, sir."

"You may go now."

Sanada and Akaya nodded before leaving the room as quickly as possible without being rude. As soon as they were safely upstairs Akaya broke out laughing, leaning against the hallway wall so that he wouldn't fall over. Sanada glared darkly at him.

"Sanada-fukubuchou," he said, in between fits of laughter, "does this mean your belly's going to get big and round? And you'll have morning sickness during tennis practice? Do you want me to go to lamaze class with you?"

"Shut up, Akaya."

When Akaya wouldn't stop laughing Sanada picked him up by the back of his shirt and carried him to the bathroom, where he deposited a still chuckling Akaya underneath the shower.

"Clean up," he said, "we're going to bed."

Sanada made his way back to his bedroom, hoping that by the time Akaya finished he wouldn't be as amused by the situation. Sure enough, by the time both of them had gotten ready to go to bed, Akaya's uproarious laughter had died down to small snickers. They climbed into bed together, Akaya spooning up onto Sanada's side, those little noises muffled into Sanada's neck.

* * *

Kamio woke up in a daze. Yesterday felt like a strange, surreal dream. He wouldn't have believed it had actually happened at all, except that he still felt a little sore from his. . . run-in with Atobe. That, and as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, he could definitely see a strange eel-like aura around himself. He remembered that his mother had said people could control their kon-gen, so he experimented with it, willing it to get weaker or stronger. He was only successful to some small degree.

He stumbled through school that day, not really paying attention to any of his classes or teachers. Luckily the tennis club was excused for most of the day because of the National tournament, but he stumbled through that too. It was almost as though he was sleepwalking when he beat his opponent from Makinofuji. He got off the court, Tachibana giving him a worried glance.

"Kamio," he said, his lips pulled downward in a small frown, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Kamio said, a little too quickly. "Sorry, I have to go."

And he was running off before any of his teammates decided to ask any follow-up questions. It was just that he didn't really want to talk to any of them about it. Shinji, as the only other madararui on the team, would have been the only one to understand, and Kamio wasn't in the mood to deal with his tangential mumblings today.

Still, Kamio had no idea what possessed him when he found himself at the court where Hyoutei and Shishigaku were in the middle of the match. He could see Atobe sitting on the bleachers, his arms slung out around him and legs propped up on the seats in front of him as though he owned the place. For some reason it pissed Kamio off a little bit. He took a seat far away enough that Atobe wouldn't sense him, but close enough that he could still see the other boy.

Now that Kamio was getting used to being a madararui he could clearly sense who else was one as well. While madararui were usually adept at hiding their kon-gen, they still gave off more pheromones then monkey. Also, while madararui could control their kon-gen, monkeys could not, their auras easily visible. On Hyoutei's team, Kamio now saw, every one but Atobe, Kabaji, Oshitori, and Mukahi were monkeys.

Atobe was playing singles two today. Kamio figured it was so Hyoutei could wrap up the match as soon as possible. Really, against Shishigaku, it was like a warm-up for the next round, when they would be facing Seigaku. Soon enough it was Atobe's turn to take the court, and Kamio found himself leaning forward to watch. He really was handsome, Kamio thought with a blush. His every movement was imbued with a kind of casual elegance, along with a touch of arrogance.

"Hmm. I thought I smelled something good here."

Kamio looked up to see Oshitari leering down at him.

"What the hell do you want?" Kamio muttered, his eyes narrowing.

"I just wanted to come see you for myself," Oshitari purred, sitting down beside him and, Kamio swore, sticking his nose in Kamio's hair.

Kamio jerked back, but collided with something behind him. He turned around to see a face directly next to his, two large eyes blinking at him. It was Mukahi, on his hands and knees on the bleachers as he leaned towards Kamio as well.

"Hey, are you the fishy Atobe likes?" Mukahi asked. "You're pretty cute, huh?"

"Wha-" Kamio froze, eyes wide, as he found himself sandwiched between the Hyoutei doubles team.

"You really do smell good," Mukahi said, now nuzzling his cheek. "Can I see your kon-gen? I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Kamio watched as two red cat ears popped out of Makuhi's head, a tail swishing behind him, but then Oshitari was hitting his partner lightly on the head.

"Ow." Makuhi pouted and sat back, properly, in his seat, still too close for comfort for Kamio's taste. His ears and tail were now gone.

"Don't do that in public, Gakuto."

Kamio felt Oshitari's arm wrapping around him, a hand on his shoulder, and he wondered if Fudomine would get disqualified if he punched another player. Instead, he forcibly pried Oshitari's hand off of him and all but threw it off.

"Feisty," Oshitari commented. "I like it."

"Shut up," Kamio said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I want to watch the match."

Gakuto's eyes darted to the tennis court. "Awww, how sweet. You came to watch Atobe play."

"That's not it at all!" But even to Kamio's ears the statement sounded a little too defensive. His cheeks felt like they were burning, and he sank further down in his seat. It sounded as though Gakuto was snickering at him.

"Well," Oshitari started, his gaze focused on Kamio's expression, "even if you say that, you're here. . ."

"To scout the match," Kamio said, "that's all."

Gakuto was smirking at him, looking like a cat with a canary. "Atobe's really good at tennis, huh?"

Kamio shrugged, watching Atobe as he played. Atobe hadn't even broken a sweat yet, was on his way to an easy victory. Kamio had to admit that he did enjoy watching Atobe play. The other boy's innate grace carried over to his playing style, and it was easy to see how he had become Hyoutei's captain. "Yeah. I guess."

Gakuto leaned forward, just a little bit, forcing Kamio to pay attention to him. "You know, you might fight it, but the fact is madararui are more sensitive to who their proper mates are than monkeys. We know by the scent who is most compatible with us. You might as well give in to Atobe. He'll probably treat you nice."

"Gakuta, stop it," Oshitari said. "How am I going to have a chance with Kamio if you're pushing him into Atobe's arms?"

Kamio tensed as an errant hand came to settle on his thigh. But before he could swat it away himself he heard a voice calling from the courts.

"Oshitari! Mukahi!" Atobe, apparently during a break, had come to their section of the bleachers and was yelling up at them, a scowl on his features. "Please refrain from molesting my boyfriend."

Oshitari smirked, but he took his hand off Kamio's leg. Both Oshitari and Gakuto seemed to settle down next to him, but Kamio's ears were still ringing from the way the word "boyfriend" had slipped so casually from Atobe's lips.

Directly after the match was over Kamio attempted to get up and get out, but Oshitari's hand was a vice grip around his wrist.

"What's the rush?" Oshitari asked. "Shouldn't you come to say hello to your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend," Kamio said, attempting and failing to jerk his hand out of Oshitari's grip. "Let go."

"Oh, but what would be the fun of that?" Oshitari used his grip on Kamio's wrist to pull him forwards, tugging him towards where the rest of the Hyoutei regulars were sitting.

"Yeah, Kamio," Gakuto said, in a sing-song voice, "come have fu~un with us."

It only took a minute for Oshitari to pull him to their destination. Atobe was already watching them, giving Oshitari a disapproving look.

"I thought I asked you," Atobe said, "not to molest Kamio."

"Molest? Whatever kind of person do you think I am, Atobe?" Oshitari's smile was saccharine sweet. "I only brought him over for you."

With a firm pat on Kamio's ass, Oshitari sent Kamio stumbling over to where Atobe was standing.

"Don't scowl, Kamio," Atobe said, a hand out to steady the redhead, "it makes you look like Shishido."

"Bastard," Shishido muttered, under his breath but still loud enough for every one to hear. There was, indeed, a scowl on his lips.

"Shishido-senpai, you shouldn't say things like that," Ohtori said, frowning from his perch next to Shishido. He leaned forward, blinking curious eyes at Kamio. "But I thought Atobe-buchou was dating Sanada from Rikkai?"

"Oh, that," Atobe replied, a hand waving off the question. "That was nothing. Kabaji, take Jirou home, ah~n? I'm taking Kamio out for dinner."

"Usu."

Kamio had been in a semi-haze since being pushed into Atobe's side, but decided he should make some kind of protest. Will power, he told himself, use it. He couldn't let himself get into this state every time he was within two feet of Atobe.

"I don't want to go out for dinner," he said, frowning at how much of a whine sounded.

"Nonsense," Atobe replied, "you just had a match too, didn't you? You must be hungry."

"I'm not," he said, but he was already being led away from the others.

It was all a little bit of a jumble, after that. Being shuffled into a waiting town car, the lights of Tokyo coming on around them as night fell, the valet in front of an expensive looking hotel. It wasn't until he was sitting across from Atobe in a European-style hotel that his head started clearing.

Kamio blushed, embarrassed that he had gotten all light-headed even after he specifically told himself not to. What happened to will power?

"Feel free to order whatever you want," Atobe said, already looking at the menu.

Kamio held up his menu, hiding the grin that was now blossoming over his face. Finally, he thought, he could take some kind of revenge out on that smug guy. If he couldn't beat Atobe in their relationship, tennis, or. . . well, anything else, really, then he could at least take it out on Atobe's wallet.

"Have you gentlemen decided what you want?" the waiter asked, stopping at their table.

"Yes," Kamio said, "for an appetizer I'd like the steamed percebes, duck breast in raspberry sauce, and sauteed soft shell crab. For my first course I'd like the homemade farfelle with crab meat, and for my second course I'd like the chateaubriand."

Kamio smiled as both the waiter and Atobe blinked at him. Kamio had no idea what a few of those things were, but they were the most expensive things on the menu.

"Yes. . . I'll just have the toasted gnocchi with white truffle sauce," Atobe said, passing the menu to the waiter. "And here I thought you weren't hungry, Kamio."

Kamio shrugged. "I changed my mind."

The food was even pretty good. It was even better, Kamio thought, knowing how much Atobe was going to have to pay for it. Then, before he knew it, Kamio's next opportunity for revenge had appeared. Atobe and Kamio were walking out of the restaurant when Kamio saw it, a large pyramid of champagne glasses set up on a small table.

"Oooh," he said, a hand to his forehead, "fainting" against the large pile. It fell to the floor in a cascade, the sound of glass breaking continuing for a few minutes.

"I'm so sorry," he heard Atobe saying, "of course I'll pay for the glasses. Please, let me pay for your dinner as well."

Kamio smiled before schooling his face and turning around. Atobe was talking to a couple, the man of which had a bottle of champagne in his hand, presumably to pour upon the tower of glasses. Both the man and the woman had blank, surprised expressions on their faces, as did the rest of their dinner party, and Kamio realized they were probably here to celebrate something. And Atobe, who had never seemed to Kamio to look anything other than smug, had a mildly embarrassed expression on his face. Suddenly, Kamio couldn't help but feel guilty about his actions.

Kamio let Atobe lead him out of the restaurant, too remorseful to say anything. He was so stupid. They waited outside for the chauffeur to pull the car up, but then Atobe was pulling Kamio's chin up to face him, was brushing Kamio's hair to the side.

"Why are you so sad all of a sudden?" Atobe asked.

" . . . sorry." Kamio mumbled it, soft under his breath, but from Atobe's smile the other boy heard it anyway.

"Silly. It's my fault for bringing you to such a nice place."

And then Atobe was leaning down and pressing their lips together. Kamio couldn't help it, he leaned forward, tangling his hands in the front of Atobe's shirt as he kissed back. But Atobe was being so nice to him. . . and then Atobe was pulling away, pressing one last kiss on his forehead before the car pulled up.

"Come on. I'll take you home."

Maybe, Kamio thought, dating Atobe wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.


	5. Doubt

Sanada was feeling very vulnerable right now. It was not an emotion he had much familiarity with. But, as he was naked from the waist down, with his ankles in stirrups and his legs spread open, Sanada figured he was allowed this small moment of weakness.

Not to mention, a man he had never met before today was sticking something up his ass.

"Well, Genichirou," the doctor said, "it seems as everything down here is completely healthy. We should be able to insert the parasite with no problems."

"Explain to me again how this works," Yukimura said, from his perch on a countertop.

Sanada scowled. "Why are you two here anyway?"

Yukimura shrugged. "You're the one who asked for tennis practice off. I was curious."

"And I wouldn't have missed this for the world," Yanagi said, a sly smile on his face. "Genichirou, you look so cute like that."

Before Sanada could say anything the door was opening. With a flourish, Atobe strode into the room, a plastic cup of white creamy liquid in his hand.

"Here," he said, handing it to the doctor, "be awed by ore-sama's beautiful seed. Please don't let any of it go to waste."

"Umm hmm." The doctor took the cup and put it down next to the one labeled 'Sanada G'. "Well, I'll explain for your monkey friend, but it wouldn't hurt for you boys to listen as well. Madararui same-sex couples are perfectly capable of having a child together. A madararui egg or sperm is capable of transforming to the other in the need arises; the problem is that of a safe place for the baby to gestate. Since men don't have a uterus, madararui scientists have cultivated a parasite that can be inserted into a man's anus, where it will form an artificial womb for the embryo to gestate. Using this type of parasite, men can conceive through anal sex, or in vitro fertilization as the Atobe and Sanada families decided."

"We're not having sex," Sanada said, as if that point needed clarifying.

"Oh, please," Atobe said, "you should be so fortunate."

Atobe then turned to Yukimura, in order to explain. "Using in vitro, madararui doctors can choose what the baby will be. This way, we can ensure that our child will be a dragon, instead of an imbecile cat."

Sanada bristled. "At least I'm a heavy-weight cat, you middle-weight lizard."

"Wait," Yukimura said, expression suddenly serious, "I think I have to veto this right now. There is no way I'll allow Sanada to get pregnant when we're in the middle of Nationals-"

"Don't worry about that," the doctor interrupted. "It will take a few weeks for the womb to be ready. After that, we have several months to implant to embryo."

"Oh," Yukimura replied. "I suppose it's fine, then, as long as his tennis isn't affected."

"Renji," Sanada interrupted, "why is your cell phone out?"

"Oh, I just wanted something for memory's sake."

After the doctor was finished, and after Sanada deleted all inappropriate photos from Yanagi's cell phone, the boys found themselves leaving the clinic.

"Sanada," Atobe said, "what are you doing tonight?"

"Why? What do you have in mind?"

"Father was saying that he wanted us to spend more time together before the baby's born, since we'll have to see each other so often afterwards. So I wanted to know if you and Kirihara would go on a date with me and Kamio."

"I'm not dating Kirihara," Sanada said.

"Of course. So will you two come?"

Sanada looked at Yukimura, who shrugged.

"We have a few days before the quarterfinals," Yukimura said. "At this point in the tournament, it's counterproductive to practice too much. We'll do some light rallying tomorrow afternoon."

"Fine," Sanada told Atobe, "we'll go."

* * *

"And this," Oshitari said, "is why x is not equal to 4."

Kamio blushed as Oshitari leaned over him, one of Oshitari's hands coming to rest on his hip. He swiftly elbowed Oshitari in the stomach, satisfied when he heard a soft "oof" and felt Oshitari withdraw slightly.

"I understand that Atobe couldn't come tutor me today," Kamio said, "but why did he have to send some one like you in his place?"

"Aww," came a voice from his bed, "some one misses A~to~be."

"And why exactly are you here?" Kamio yelled at the redhead reading manga on his bed.

"Because Yuushi's here," Mukahi answered. "Duh."

Kamio was about to say something when the doorbell rang. He practically jumped up and raced downstairs, eager to be away from his tutors for the day. He yanked open the door, surprised to see a head of wild black curls in front of him.

"Yo," Kirihara said, "wanna go somewhere?"

Kamio looked up towards his room, then back at Kirihara. Well. . . lessor of two evils.

"Sure," he said, stepping out and closing the door behind him.

"Huh," Kirihara said, walking away now that he knew Kamio was following him. "I didn't think it would be that easy to get you to come follow me."

"Yeah, well, I've got nothing better to do. Where are we going, anyway?"

"I don't know," Kirihara replied, scratching his head. "Sanada told me to get you and meet them somewhere, but I'm not sure where we're going from there."

Kamio's pace slowed until he was stopped on the sidewalk. "What does Sanada want with me?"

"Hmm?" Kirihara stopped a few yards down, finally realizing that Kamio wasn't following him anymore. He turned around, eyes big and confused. He wondered why Kamio was so dense most of the time. "For a double date, of course."

"Double date?" And then Kamio remembered that Sanada was with Atobe right now. His hand moved to push some hair behind his ear, a nervous gesture more than anything else. Thoughts of last night came back to him, and he thought, he wouldn't mind going on a double date. He started moving again, walking with Kirihara towards the train station. "You don't know where we're going?"

"Nu uh," Kirihara replied, shaking his head rigorously. "But I hope it's an arcade. There's a new racing game that just came out I want to try."

Kamio raised an eyebrow. "Is an arcade really a place people go to on dates?"

"Why not?" Kirihara asked. "Where do you go on dates?"

Kamio blushed, realizing that his one and only date had taken place yesterday. . . if, in fact, that had been a date.

"To a restaurant," he said, his voice full of false authority.

"Che. That's so boring. I'd rather go to an arcade any day."

About half an hour later, Kamio was gaping as a helicopter landed in the field in front of them.

"Seriously?" he sputtered.

"What's the problem?" Kirihara asked, and Kamio saw that all three boys were giving him confused expressions.

Kamio was still gaping as he was pushed into the helicopter, his hands and face pressed against the glass as they took off. He knew that the Atobe family was insanely rich, but this was ridiculous. Come to think of it. . . Kamio looked over at the other boys. Sanada's watch was definitely a rolex, and from what Kamio remembered his family was pretty loaded too. And Kirihara. . . well, Kamio didn't know about Kirihara's family, but the fact was he went to Rikkai, so they probably weren't hurting for cash. There was also the fact that none of them seemed to think that getting into a helicopter for an impromptu date was strange at all.

"Really, Atobe," Sanada said, his brow creased, "we could have just gone to the mall and seen a movie."

"What an absolutely plebeian suggestion," Atobe replied. "Sometimes, Sanada, I worry about you."

"Where are we going?" Kirihara asked, bouncing up and down in his seat.

"To a ryokan in Gunma prefecture," Sanada replied.

Kamio's eyes widened. "Are we going to be gone overnight?"

Maybe, Kamio thought, he shouldn't have left Oshitari and Mukahi in his room. They were, no doubt, gone by now, but who knows what they had gotten into during the interim. Plus, he thought, there were his parents. . .

"Don't worry," Atobe replied, "we'll leave early tomorrow morning so we can make it back to school."

Atobe moved closer to him then, only by an inch, but in the confines of the helicopter it just made Atobe's presence all the more near. Kamio was all too aware of the arm that came up to rest on the back of his seat, of Atobe's chest against his arm.

"Look," Atobe said, pointing out the window, "you can see Tokyo Tower from here."

Kamio looked out the window and nodded. Atobe pointed out more sights, whispering them softly into his ear, and Kamio found himself leaning into the soft murmurs. Sanada and Kirihara faded into the background, and it was too soon when the helicopter made its landing outside the inn.

"Woo hoo," Kirihara called, jumping out of the helicopter as soon as he stopped, "I'm going to find the hot spring!"

He was tearing off his clothes as he ran into the building, and Sanada reddened in embarrassment and (slight?) anger before getting out to follow his kouhei. "Akaya, behave yourself!"

Kamio and Atobe, on the other hand, took their time getting out of the helicopter. Kamio was openly in awe of everything there; he had never been to a ryokan this nice, not by a long shot. It was as though he were stepping back in time. The decorations and fixtures all looked like they were meticulously preserved antiques, straight out of feudal Japan.

Soon enough they were in their room, Kamio padding in his dirty socks across the tatami floors. There was a shoji screen at the end of the large room, and he opened it to find a glass-encased sitting area overlooking a beautiful, perfectly manicured Japanese garden. When Kamio turned around Atobe had already changed into his yukata, and he gestured for Kamio to hurry up and do the same.

"Come, now, we should join Sanada and Kirihara in the baths."

Several minutes later they were at the men's bath, a large, wooden room that had a huge glass wall opening out into the forest. Sanada was sitting stiffly by the side, and Atobe and Kamio joined him there. Kirihara was disappearing and reappearing under the water like a crocodile, the top of his head and his eyes the only thing they could see when he came back up.

"How was the doctor's office?" Kamio asked as he came to sit by Atobe's side. It seemed like it was something he should ask.

"It went perfectly," Atobe said, at the same time Sanada scowled and said, "Fine."

"Really, Sanada," Atobe teased, "you'll just be the most adorable mother."

Kamio suddenly had an image of Sanada, stern and scowling, with a big belly and wearing a maternity dress. He couldn't help but laugh, and then Sanada was shooting him a dark glare.

"You two," Sanada said, taking in Kamio's close proximity with Atobe, "it didn't take long for you to get so chummy."

Kamio blushed at that, but then Kirihara was jumping out of the water with a large splash, temporarily blinding all of them.

"Isn't it because Atobe's a middle-weight?" Kirihara asked. He pitched himself forward against Sanada's back, wrapping his arms around the other boy's neck and placing his chin on Sanada's head. Sanada didn't seem to mind Kirihara's presence, his expression set in that same half-angry, half-petulant one it always was.

"It's because I'm Atobe Keigo," Atobe replied, not a little bit smugly. "Who wouldn't want to be with me?"

"Idiot," Kamio said. But he muttered it into the water, so the word manifested only in a few bubbles of air breaking the surface.

After the hot springs all four boys made their way back to Atobe and Kamio's room, Kamio's stomach already growling at the thought of a traditional kaiseki meal. He imagined courses and courses of food, shiizakana and sashimi and soup and simmered vegetables and grilled fish. . . oh, man, it was going to be so good. The ryokan staff had already set out a table low in the room, and Kamio's eyes glowed as everything he had imagined was being put in front of them.

"Itadakimasu!" Kirihara shouted, before shoveling some appetizers into his mouth.

It wasn't long before Kirihara was near comatose on his back on the floor, groaning as his hands rubbed his stomach.

"That. . . was good."

Kamio stared at the piles of empty dishes and bowls left on the table, finding himself inclined to agree.

"Come on," Sanada said, picking Kirihara up by the back of his yukata and setting him on his feet. "Let's take a walk while the staff cleans up and sets out our futons."

"Do you want to go too?" Atobe asked Kamio, voice languid and sated from dinner.

Kamio nodded to the question. It wasn't every day he was in a place like this, and he wanted to see the gardens. It wasn't as stifling hot here as it was in Tokyo, and much of that heat was dispersing with the setting sun. The boys slipped into the geta sandals provided by the ryokan and made their way outside, walking along the bubbling creek that ran alongside the inn.

Kamio watched as Sanada and Kirihara took the lead, walking a few yards in front of them. Sanada walked with perfect posture and poise, back straight and steps small. Kirihara, on the other hand, was a mess of energy beside him, darting this way and that and glomping onto random body parts as he saw and pointed out things that interested him. Still, Kamio thought, there was a strange lovey dovey air to them that Kamio was a little jealous of.

Kamio felt fingers brush against his own, wrapping around them, and Kamio found himself holding Atobe's hand. He was sure there was a light blush on his face, because he never had been very good about controlling or hiding his emotions, but right now he didn't mind.

"What are you thinking right now?" Atobe asked.

Kamio looked up to an amused expression. "Nothing."

Atobe arched an eyebrow, and Kamio fixed his gaze resolutely ahead.

"Are you, at the very least, having fun?"

Kamio shrugged, still loath to give in to Atobe, even if he already had. "Yeah. I guess."

"Good," was Atobe's surprisingly succinct reply, as he gave Kamio's hand a light squeeze.

"Kamio! Kamio!" Kirihara called out to him from ahead. "Race you to the koi pond!"

"Idiot!" Kamio called back. "I'm not racing you!"

"I guess that means you lose!" Kirihara called, already running.

Kamio flushed. He let go of Atobe's hand and sprinted after Kirihara. "There's no way I'll lose to someone like you!"

Kamio caught up to Kirihara a few minutes later and tackled the other boy to the ground. They rolled a few times over the lawn before coming to a stop, Kamio on top of Kirihara.

"I still won," Kirihara whined, "so there."

Kamio got off, not even bothering to respond to that. The koi pond was right in front of them, and he settled into a comfortable sitting position as he watched the fish swim underneath the surface of the water. Kirihara did the same, coming to a position on his stomach, chin propped up in his heads.

"This was fun," Kirihara said, and Kamio wondered how a violent guy like Kirihara could be such a kid. But it's not as though Kamio didn't agree.

"Yeah," he said, and then Kirihara's eyes were on him, watching him intently.

"So you and Atobe are getting along?"

"I guess."

"Good. Then Sanada's dad won't be mad at us anymore." Kirihara shivered even thinking about the man.

"What do you mean?" Kamio asked, blinking at Kirihara curiously.

"Hmm?" Kirihara blinked back several times himself before understanding what Kamio was asking. "Oh, that. Well, after I. . . umm. . . interrupted the marriage negotiations, they called off the marriage. But it would be insulting if Sanada was sleeping with a retrograde, and Atobe didn't have somebody good. But luckily you're a rare species. So it all worked out in the end."

"Oh." Kamio looked down at the pond, frowning. There was something about this. . . "Kirihara, do you like Sanada?"

"Are you kidding?" Kirihara said, plopping his head down as he reached his arms forward. "That guy's such a hardass. I can't stand him."

Kamio raised an eyebrow at that. "Seriously."

Kirihara stared blankly at Kamio for a second before grinning. "Oh, no, I think you're misunderstanding something. Sanada and me, when we're together, it's only because Sanada's a heavyweight and I'm a retrograde."

"Oh." Kamio leaned back. He felt as though he was sinking into the ground. "Do. . . do you think Atobe's only interested in me because I'm a rare species?"

The silence before Kirihara answered was the absolute worse. Atobe was being so nice to him, Kamio thought, but it hadn't always been that way, had it? Back when Atobe thought he was a monkey, he never gave Kamio so much as a second glance.

"Well," Kirihara answered, "it's not like a guy like Atobe would date a common species."

"There you two are." It was Atobe's voice, and Kamio looked up to see that Atobe and Sanada had finally caught up to them. Atobe walked towards him, leaning down to brush some hair out of Kamio's face.

"You don't look well," he said, voice soft. "Are you feeling okay?"

Atobe's expression was almost caring, but his touch felt all of a sudden cold. Kamio gently pushed Atobe's hand away from him, looking away at the surprised expression that crossed Atobe's face.

"I'm tired," Kamio said. "I want to go to sleep."

Atobe was somewhat befuddled by the change in Kamio's mood, but he nodded. "Okay. Then we'll go to sleep."

Kamio got up, walking quickly back towards the ryokan. He could feel Atobe following him, but didn't particularly feel like talking to the other boy. As soon as they were inside their room Kamio went to brush his teeth in the bathroom, and as soon as he finished there he sunk into the futon that had been set out, burying himself underneath the blankets.

Kamio's eyes were wide open as he stared at the wall. He could hear Atobe moving through the room, could hear the running water in the bathroom. He could almost see the confused expression on Atobe's face.

Kamio heard a soft click before the room was surrounded in darkness, and tensed as he felt Atobe getting into the futon behind him. There was a strange silence between them, and maybe Atobe wanted to say something, but all he ended up saying was "Good night, Kamio."

Kamio didn't reply, only let himself relax a little bit. A few days ago, Kamio thought, he didn't like Atobe. Even now, he didn't really know Atobe. So why exactly, Kamio asked himself, did he suddenly feel like crying?


	6. Understanding

It was raining. It was raining, but Fudomine was still out practicing, their last official practice before their match with Shitenhouji. Tachibana seemed especially serious about it, understandable considering the circumstances, but Kamio's mind was elsewhere.

Kamio's cell phone rang from the top of his gym bag, which was in turn sitting on a bench at the side of Fudomine's tennis courts. It had rung three times in the last ten minutes, Kamio ignoring it every time. So he was extremely shocked when Shinji walked up to his bag and picked up his phone.

"Shinji!" Kamio got up and made a dash towards the other boy, making an unsuccessful grab at the phone. "What are you doing?"

Shinji turned, sheltering the phone in between his palms. "What do you mean? Your phone was ringing non-stop, I just wanted to see who it was you were avoiding. I never would have guessed that it was Atobe. Why does Atobe have your phone number? If he has your phone number, that means you must have given it to him, so something must have happened between you guys, and now that I think about it you did disappear after our match the other day-"

"Shinji," Tachibana said, coming up to place a hand on Shinji's shoulder, "that's enough."

A blush started on Shinji's cheeks, so light that Kamio was the only one who noticed it.

"Fine. Take back your phone. Go through life avoiding your problems, see if I care, I'm only your best friend."

Shinji handed the now silent phone to Kamio, who let out a relieved sigh. He flipped it open to find, sure enough, the words "missed call - atobe keigo" written on the screen.

"Kamio," came Ishida's voice, and Kamio looked up to see all of the Fudomine tennis club staring at him. "You're not dating Atobe Keigo, are you?"

Even Tachibana looked a little curious. Now it was Kamio's turn to blush.

"No, of course not," he said, but nobody looked as though they believed him.

Kamio ran home by himself, not in the mood to walk with Shinji like he usually did. Thankfully it was Thursday, which meant that he didn't have have a tutoring session, and he all but crashed into his mattress. His phone was ringing again from where he dropped it next to him on the bed, some new j-rock tune he had downloaded last weekend, but he didn't feel much like answering it.

Kamio pulled his pillow closer to his chest, resting his chin on it as he stared down at the glowing screen. Atobe's name was flashing across it in green font, and Kamio ran his finger over the tiny characters.

What is this? Kamio asked himself, his heart catching in his chest. What, exactly, was he to Atobe?

Things like retrogrades and mer-species. . . they seemed so highly prized by madararui society. Things to be possessed or mated with, valued mostly for their rarity. When Atobe looked at him, he didn't see Kamio. All he saw was an unagi.

The phone was ringing again. Kamio hesitated. He didn't want to pick it up, but, despite himself, he was reaching for it.

"Hello?"

"Kamio, why haven't you picked up? I've been calling for the last half hour."

Kamio blinked. That was most definitely not Atobe's voice. . .

"Is Atobe with you?"

"No. Oshitori, why are you calling me from Atobe's cell phone?"

"Well. . . the thing is, we can't find him. His bag is here, so we decided to call you, but he's nowhere to be found."

"Well, he's not with me," Kamio said. He was about to hang up, but Oshitari was still talking.

"-probably don't know, but cold-blooded madararui have a weakness to cooler temperatures. If Atobe, as a dragon, got caught out in the rain, he could end up really sick."

"What do you want me to do about it?" Kamio asked, trying to sound indifferent. Worry crept into his voice all the same, and he hated himself for it.

". . . never mind, Kamio, sorry for bothering you. I have to go look for him."

Oshitari hung up. Kamio stared at the phone in his hand, torn between as he debated what he should do. His body decided before his head, apparently, and he was pushing himself out of bed and out of his house.

It wasn't until Kamio was on his bike, riding through the now pouring rain, that he realized he had no idea where he was going. He assumed Oshitari was calling from Hyoutei, and decided to go there, glad that the streets were fairly empty thanks to the weather.

The first place Kamio headed was the tennis courts, where he saw a tall figure searching through the bushes near the club house. He headed over there to find Oshitari.

Oshitari looked up at him, only vaguely surprised. "So you came after all. Well, Gakuto and Kabaji are looking for him as well. . . he may have completely reverted to his kon-gen, so be careful to check smaller areas as well. He should still be on the campus somewhere, since his bag was here."

Kamio nodded, but he just stood there. He didn't really know Hyoutei's campus, didn't know where to start looking.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Oshitari asked him, vaguely irritated.

"So- sorry." Kamio walked away, not quite sure of where he was going. He decided to stick near buildings, since he didn't want to get too lost, but Hyoutei's campus seemed much bigger than Fudomine's, and he had no idea which places Atobe liked to frequent. The rain was getting even worse, and Kamio couldn't see more than a foot or two in front of him. His clothes and his hair was all soaked, heavy with the pounding rain.

Worse, Oshitari's words tugged at the back of his mind. Oshitari had said sick, but how sick would Atobe get in this weather? Considering how worried Oshitari was, it must be serious, and Kamio frowned to think about it.

Kamio had been searching for maybe half an hour before he caught it, a faint smell of something familiar, something the never ceased to make him lightheaded. That wasn't it's effect this time though, and Kamio could feel a small sense of relief as he followed it, finally coming to a large tree. He walked closer, getting down on his hands and knees to inspect it. He found that its base was hollow, and there was a hole close to the ground.

Kamio wondered if Atobe could really be in there. . . he tried to look inside, but it was too dark and rainy to see anything. But it smelled of Atobe, strongly now, and Kamio reached his arms into the hole. His hands came into contact with something cold and sleek, and he grabbed onto it, surprised to pull out an unconscious komodo dragon.

"Atobe?" he asked, but the large lizard was knocked out.

Even more worried, Kamio cradled Atobe in his arms as he ran through the rain, towards the nearest physical structure he could see. It was still several minutes away, and he hoped that he wasn't making Atobe's condition worse by carrying him in the rain like this. Finally, he made it to a small structure he had seen before, and slammed open the door.

Kamio laid Atobe down on one of the couches he found in the darkened building, then frantically searched for something to keep the other boy warm. The only thing he could find was the Hyoutei flag hanging on one of the walls, and he tore it down to wrap around the lizard, frowning at how thin and flimsy it felt.

Kamio took out his phone to call Oshitari.

"Did you find him? Where are you?" Oshitari's voice was worry and relief mixed into one.

"Yeah." Kamio looked around, noticing for the first time the lockers along the side of a wall. Cleats and photos of the F.C. Tokyo. "It looks like I'm in the soccer club room."

"Is is possible to take Atobe out of there? Is there something you can wrap him in to keep hims dry?"

"No," Kamio replied. That flag would get wet in a few seconds, the way the storm was coming down, and even his clothes were dripping wet. "Besides, I'm not sure I'd be able to find my way back."

"Okay. Just wait there, I'm going to call Atobe's household. Just. . . make sure his body temperature gets up, okay Kamio? That's the most important thing right now. If it drops below a certain temperature, Atobe could die."

The word struck Kamio with its severity, but Oshitari was already hanging up, and he couldn't ask him to expound on the matter. Instead he looked down at Atobe-lizard, who was half curled up underneath the flag. He brought a hand to the lizard's head, worried when it was freezing cold to the touch.

Get Atobe's body temperature up. . . but how exactly was he supposed to do that?

Kamio flushed as his head supplied him with one particular way of doing it. Kamio sighed, then started pulling off his clothes. They were completely waterlogged, and landed with a wet plop on the floor. He then shook his head, getting his hair as dry as possible, before climbing onto the couch with Atobe.

The lizard instinctually nestled closer to his warmth, and Kamio soon felt Atobe's two front paws pressed against his chest, curling slightly but not enough to hurt. He brought his arms around to wrap around the lizard, Atobe's head resting against his chest.

It was almost like holding a baby, Kamio thought. It was. . . nice. He could feel Atobe breathing against his chest, and he figured it would be okay to take a nap.

Kamio woke up to the sound of a door opening. He looked up to see a large, muscular figure holding an umbrella.

"Kabaji?" he asked, garnering a now familiar "usu" in response.

Kamio picked Atobe-lizard up into his arms as Kabaji walked towards them. When Kabaji was close, he assessed the situation, and took off his coat to drape over Kamio's shoulders. As Kamio stood up Kabaji put an arm around his shoulder, forcing him underneath the umbrella as they walked into the rain.

One of the Atobe household's chauffeurs had pulled a car onto the school grounds next to the club house, and that's where Kabaji led them. The inside of the car had been pre-heated, and felt like an oven when Kamio got inside. Kabaji got in behind him and then they were driving away from the school, Kamio feeling relieved when Atobe seemed to stir in his arms.

As soon as Kamio entered the Atobe estate their were servants to take him away, leaving Kamio to stand awkwardly in the grand foyer. Kamio had only seen houses like this in movies. It was decided Western, and it looked like a castle, not a house in Tokyo. Done with gawking, he turned to leave, figuring Atobe was fine. There was no need for him to be there anymore. But just as he was leaving, perfectly manicured fingers came to wrap themselves around his arm.

"You," said a confident, regal voice, "must be that little eel my son is seeing."

Kamio could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"Well, turn around so I can look at you."

Kamio gulped, but turned around, looking up at Atobe's mother. She was tall, with long blonde hair that fell in waves over one side of her face. Her face was perfectly made up, with smoky eyes and ruby red lips, lips from which dangled a slim cigarette. She was dressed, ostentatiously, in an long, satin evening gown, and Kamio wondered if she was going to a party or if she just always dressed that way. Knowing Atobe, the latter wouldn't be at all surprising.

"You're not much, are you?" she asked, staring at Kamio with assessing eyes. Kamio figured that was a rhetorical question. "Do you go to school at Hyoutei?"

"Fudomine," Kamio replied, and from the scandalized look that passed briefly on her face, he figured she had heard about it.

"You're a little skinny, aren't you?" she said, giving his arm a pinch.

Kamio resisted the urge to yelp. But then Atobe's mother was leaning down, smelling him like some one would the bouquet of a fine wine. She stood back, taking a drag of her cigarette. Kamio could feel himself wilt under the focus of her gaze, but finally she just nodded, and pat him on the head.

"You'll do, I suppose," she said. "My son's room is up the stairs and two corridors to the right."

"Oh," Kamio started, wanting to tell Atobe's mother that he was just leaving, but he was cut short with a cold glare.

"Some one will drive you to school tomorrow morning," she said, a note of finality in her voice that Kamio didn't think he should argue with.

Kamio shuffled a little, but nodded, and started climbing the circular stairway upstairs. The Atobe mansion was a huge, stately affair, all marble and chandeliers and things Kamio didn't really know the names for. He would have gotten lost if it weren't for the lingering traces of Atobe' scent, but as it was he found his way easily enough. Soon he was pushing open the large, heavy doors that led to Atobe's bedroom, feeling relief when he saw a very human Atobe laying down on the bed.

He was asleep. Kamio turned around, intent on going home. Now that Atobe's mother wasn't in front of him he felt no problem disobeying her. He'd just walk to the bus stop, and catch one back to Hyoutei to get his bike. There was no point in him being here, he told himself. But, after a minute, he found himself turning back again and walking towards the bed.

Atobe was in human form again and laying on his back, covered in a thick, luxurious looking blanket. It seemed as though Atobe was shirtless, but Kamio figured from the temperature the house was being kept at, clothes weren't strictly necessary for warmth purposes. His breathing was steady and regular, a healthy rose to his cheeks.

Kamio crawled into the bed, careful not to disrupt the mattress anymore than possible. Apparently he wasn't graceful enough in that regard, as the movements woke Atobe up. The other boy blinked tired eyes up at him, before reaching to grab Kamio's wrist and pull him completely onto the bed.

"You," Atobe said, his voice somewhat scratchy, "what are you doing here?"

Kamio tried to pull away, but Atobe was only pulling him closer, until his head was pressed against Atobe's chest. He could hear Atobe's heart rate, and his hand clenched into a fist on Atobe's stomach.

"I'm the one who found you," Kamio replied.

"Thank you, then," Atobe said, bringing a hand to rest on the back of Kamio's head.

Kamio hated this. He hated it because he liked it so much. . . he liked being in the haze that formed whenever he was in Atobe's presence. He liked being held like this, Atobe's warm skin pressed against his. He liked Atobe.

Stupid, Kamio told himself. You really are so stupid. He could feel his eyes tear up, water running down his cheeks and onto Atobe's chest.

"Really," Atobe chuckled, "are you that relieved that I'm okay?"

When Kamio didn't say anything back Atobe's voice took on a worried tone.

"Kamio, what on earth is the matter with you?"

"It's nothing," Kamio sniffed. He uncurled his hand, bringing to rest on Atobe's chest. "I'm fine."

"Kamio-"

"I don't mind," Kamio said, a little more certain. "I don't mind, if you only like me because I'm a rare species. As long as we can be together like this, it's okay."

Silence. Then. . .

"Really, Kamio, I knew you were stupid, but this is ridiculous."

Kamio lifted his head up to protest, but Atobe only used the opportunity to bring their lips together, pressing a slow, insistent kiss against Kamio's mouth.

"Idiot," he said, when they parted, "even if it was your pheromones that attracted me, do you really think I'd want to date you if I didn't like you? Rare species or not? If I wanted rarity, I'd steal Kirihara away from Sanada."

Kamio wanted to say something, but then Atobe was kissing him again, and as their tongues intertwined Kamio forgot whatever it was that was on his mind. Apparently Atobe had recovered from the afternoon, because everything about him was latent heat. . . his tongue on Kamio's tongue, his fingers on Kamio's abdomen, every touch hot and fevered.

When they broke apart again both their faces were flushed, eyes glazed over and half-lidded.

"You've made me so hard," Atobe murmured into Kamio's ear, before swirling his tongue around its outer rim. "I want to come inside of you so badly."

Kamio moaned, and then they were throwing the blankets off and pulling off clothing, until they were both nude and pressed against each other. Atobe's cock was hard against his thigh as they kissed, and Kamio wanted it inside of him, couldn't wait to have it fucking him.

Kamio arched as two fingers pushed into his ass. It was a poor substitution, but a necessary evil, and it was okay being finger fucked like this but he needed something more. He spread his legs further, need and want overcoming him.

"Atobe," he said, more of a moan, but Atobe understood. Atobe needed it just as much, to be inside of Kamio, and he quickly positioned himself between Kamio's legs. He put a hand on his cock to guide himself inside, and then his mouth was a small o as he pushed forward. So hot, Atobe thought, so tight. . . amazing. And then he was pulling out and thrusting in, and every time he thrust into Kamio, Kamio would arch upwards to meet him. Fucking, to their own rhythm, and it felt so good, so perfect.

Soon Atobe could feel that tension building up in his groin, and he reached downward, grabbing Kamio's erection. He barely had to touch it before Kamio came, seed spurting out onto his stomach. He clenched down on Atobe's cock, and Atobe kept thrusting as he emptied himself out into the boy.

Atobe sighed, letting himself fall forward over Kamio's body, and pressed a kiss against Kamio's neck. They stayed that way for a few moments, still joined together, before Atobe rolled over to the side with a small plop. Kamio could feel seed leaking out of him after Atobe's cock pulled out, and he reached down to collect some on his fingers, before drawing them into his mouth.

He turned his head to see Atobe watching him. They were both breathing deeply now, tired from the day and from their most recent activities. Kamio felt wonderfully full and sated, thought he could get used to doing this with Atobe.

"Akira," Atobe said, and his name on Atobe's lips made Kamio feel a little bit lightheaded, "no more talk about me liking you just because you're an unagi. Understood?"

"Okay," Kamio said, doing his best to suppress the smile that was threatening to spread over his face. Instead, he shifted, spooning against Atobe's side before closing his eyes and falling asleep.


	7. Illegal Drugs

Shinji had decided. He shouldered his backpack, ignored Kamio's pleas to wait up, and strode out of the classroom. Today, he thought, today was going to be the day he confessed to Tachibana.

It was Friday, the day before the quarter-finals and semi-finals, and Fudomine had the afternoon off to relax before the tournament. So, Shinji decided, he would go to Tachibana's classroom directly after last period, and finally tell his buchou how he felt.

Shinji walked towards the hallway where all the third year classrooms were, making his way to room 301 with a fierce determination. Finally, he stood at the doorway, looking in. . . to find that Tachibana wasn't there.

"Hmm? Tachibana?" said a classmate, after Shinji asked. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen him since lunch."

"Skipping!" called a girl with purple streaks in her hair. "He's definitely skipping! Misa just texted me that she saw him hanging out at the sandwich place outside the park."

Okay. Change of plans. Shinji strode back down the halls and towards the bicycle rack. Kamio was there again, trying to get his attention, but Shinji lightly shoved him away. He was on a mission. He would go to this sandwich place, he decided, and finally tell Tachibana how he felt.

It didn't take Shinji long to get to get to the sandwich place. He locked his bicycle up and went into the shop, looking around for Tachibana. It was pretty crowded, since school had just gotten out, and it was hard for him to scan through all the people. Shinji was about to give up when he felt a hand on his back, and a voice he didn't recognize speaking to him.

"Why, hello. What's a cute guy like you doing in a place like this?"

Shinji turned at the cheesy (and, in this case, Shinji thought, completely nonsensical-why wouldn't there be cute guys in a sandwich shop?-) pick-up line to find himself bump into some one's chest. It was covered in some light, flowy material, and Shinji backed up a step and looked up to an amused grin and a strangely nappy mess of black hair. He looked vaguely familiar, but Shinji didn't know where to place him.

"What are you?" said the boy, making a strange click clack sound as he stepped forward. Shinji looked down to see flared jeans and wooden geta sandals. "A little doggy? What a coincidence, I'm a dog too."

Now that he was so close again, and probably emitting pheromones on purpose, Shinji could smell that there was something definitely dog-like. . . a hint of. . . an akita, maybe? A middle-weight. . .

"What do you say," the boy continued, his hand pulling Shinji even closer, "we go back to my place?"

Definitely a middle weight, Shinji decided, maybe even part heavy-weight, from the daze Shinji was going into. But then Shinji shook his head to clear it, pushing the other boy away with both arms.

"Not interested."

"Shinji? Chitose, what exactly do you think you're doing to my kouhei?"

Aah. Now Shinji remembered where he had seen this boy before. He had come to the Kantou tournament to see Tachibana play. . . Chitose Senri, Tachibana's ex-teammate from when they used to live in Kyuushuu together.

"You never told me you had such a cute kouhei, Kippei," Chitose said, making a move to grab Shinji again. The smaller boy deftly avoided it, taking a few steps closer to Tachibana.

"I heard you skipped class," Shinji said to Tachibana, his tone mildly reproachful.

"Yeah, well, this guy showed up and dragged me off." At least Tachibana seemed irritated by the situation, although he didn't seem remorseful at all about skipping class.

"You know, you were more fun when you were a blond," Chitose said, pouting. "We used to skip classes together all the time."

A new voice joined the fray then, causing the others to turn to look."If you want I can bleach it back for you."

"Oh, hey," Chitose said to Shinji, "Shinji, was it?"

"Ibu. You can call me Ibu."

"Well, Ibu Shinji, these are my teammates, Konjiki and Hitouji. Teammates, this is Tachibana's cute kohei."

The newly introduced couple was pretty much draped all over each other, arms slung over each other's shoulders. Hitouji reminded Shinji of a poor man's version of Kaido from Seigaku, complete with the bandanna wrapped around his head. And if Hitouji was some cheap knock off of Kaidoh, then Konjiki must be Inui, only there was no way he could be considered good looking behind those glasses. Not that Shinji considered Seigaku's Inui good looking to begin with, just that he could see how some other people, people with bad taste, might.

"I can dye it for you," Hitouji repeated. "We were just about to leave any way, right?"

"I was just about to leave," Tachibana corrected, "I have no idea what you were all about to do."

"Kippei, that's so cold," Chitose said. "Don't you want to spend more time with your close friend Senri? Besides, you have to come, because I'm taking your cute kohei hostage."

Chitose reached for Shinji again, only this time he seemed to know exactly what direction Shinji was going to dodge towards, and was there to catch him. A hand wrapped itself around Shinji's waist and started to pull him forward.

"You coming?" Chitose asked, grinning at Tachibana over his shoulder.

Tachibana frowned but followed, the gay ferrets stumbling into step with the group. After a minute or two Shinji was able to free himself from Chitose's grip, and fell back to walk alongside Tachibana. Shinji sighed. He had only come here for one reason, but it's not as though he could confess with so many people with them. He would just have to wait for his opportunity.

"Sorry about Chitose," Tachibana said, his eyes warm as he looked down at Shinji. "He can be a nuisance, but he's a good friend. Most of the time."

"I don't really mind," Shinji muttered.

Tachibana was a little surprised by the statement. When he had found Shinji in the restaurant, it had been obvious that Chitose had been hitting on him. Which wasn't exactly surprising. That's just what Chitose tended to do. Shinji hadn't looked like he was enjoying the attention, but then he had let Chitose keep his arm around his waist for quite some time. And now, saying that he didn't mind Chitose's antics. . . Tachibana frowned. Just how long had they been talking before Tachibana had come over?

It didn't take long for the boys to get to the hotel that the Shitenhouji tennis club was staying. It was, understandably, close to the tennis complex where the National tournament was being held, and was a pretty nondescript building. They all headed to Hitouji and Konjiki's room, with the exception of Chitose, who had to make a pit stop in his room.

When they got there Hitouji started digging around in his luggage, pulling out hair brushes and curlers and all sorts of odds and end. Shinji looked from the boy's short hair to his hair style products and back again, perplexed. Come to think of it, it was pretty odd for a boy to randomly be carrying around hair bleach, wasn't it?

"It's for Oshitari," Hitouji said, and Shinji realized that he had been muttering out loud. He really should stop that habit.

"Plus," Hitouji said, shrugging, "I like to do hair."

"I see," Shinji replied, attempting to be polite.

But now Konjiki was staring at Shinji with an expression Shinji was absolutely positive he didn't like. He frowned and scooted closer to Tachibana on the bed.

"But you know, Ibu-kun," Konjiki said, "you really are cu~ute. Are all the other players on your team this cute?"

"Shut up," Hitoji said, pushing Konjiki off from where he had been leaning on his shoulder, "I'm telling you, it's cheating when you say stuff like that."

"It's not cheating if you just look," Konjiki replied, draping himself back across Hitouji's back.

"Are you two always so touchy feely?" Shinji asked, a frown on his lips. Even if bisexuality was rampant among madararui, he was pretty sure it still wasn't completely accepted among the monkey population, and homosexual madararui couples generally weren't flashy about showing their relationship in public. Plus, with two people like them, it was somehow. . . "It's a little gross. I don't mean that in an offensive way, I'm just telling the truth, with the way you're always grabbing each other and everything. People are too public in their displays of affections these days, it just isn't right. There's a time and a place for everything and just because you're a doubles team doesn't mean you can make out on the tennis courts."

Konjiki blinked at him, then pointed to where he and Hitouji were joined together. "Are you still talking about us?"

"I think we'll go for honey blond," Hitouji said, holding out a box. "The highlights in it will bring out your bone structure. Come on, now, let's head to the bathroom."

Konjiki actually winked at Tachibana. Shinji turned to give Tachibana a questioning glance, and Tachibana shrugged at him.

"I might as well," Tachibana said, "to tell you the truth, I kind of miss my old hair."

Chitose came back then, followed by a boy Shinji didn't know. Chitose had a bag in his hand, and set it down on the floor as he sat down in the spot that Chitose had just vacated. The other boy sat down on the mattress across from them.

"Ibu," Chitose said, "this is Shiraishi, our fearless captain."

"Hey," Shiraishi said, reaching out to shake Shinji's hand. "So, what is this, are we partying with Fudomine before we kick their asses tomorrow?"

"Shiraishi," Konjiki said, inching forward to sit on the ground in between the two beds, "that's not a very nice thing to say with Ibu right here."

"We can still hear you in here, too," Hitouji called, his voice slightly muffled in the bathroom.

Chitose pulled something out of the bag, and Shinji was surprised to recognize it as a bong. But Chitose was packing the bowl with something out of a small plastic bag, and none of the other Shitenhouji players were acting out of the ordinary.

"Is this something you do?" Shinji asked. "Smoke up the day before an important tennis match? There are so many things wrong with that. One, marijuana is illegal in Japan. Two, you have an important match tomorrow. Against us. You better not be doing this because you don't think we're a threat-"

"Really," Shiraishi said, "I didn't realize Fudomine was so straight-laced. Aren't you guys known as troublemakers? Something about being disqualified from the newcomer's tournament last year?"

"Shinji," Tachibana called from the bathroom, "if Chitose's offering you pot, don't take it."

"I wasn't going to even if you didn't say anything," Shinji muttered.

"Boo," Chitose said, then took a toke on the bong. "You know, Kippei used to do this all the time with me."

"It's the only way I could tolerate being around you," Tachibana shouted.

Shiraishi snickered at the comment and took the bong from Chitose. "I like your friend. He's funny."

"Once in a blue moon," Chitose replied, frowning.

Shiraishi coughed as he passed the bong to Konjiki.

"Are you sure you don't want some?" Chitose asked, moving even closer towards Shinji. "Just one hit?"

"If you guys want to screw around," Shinji said, "that's your business, but I don't want any part of it. I'm perfectly fine not getting stoned the day before the National quarterfinals."

"Your loss," Chitose said, coughing just a little bit.

But the small hotel room was filling up with smoke, and Shinji really hoped that he wasn't going to get a contact high. He also hoped that he didn't reek of marijuana, and would be able to make his way home without being stopped by the police or questioned by his mother.

Tachibana came out of the bathroom, frowning as he saw how close together on the bed Chitose and Shinji were sitting.

"Shinji," Tachibana said, running his fingers through wet, yellow hair. "What do you think?"

"It's fine."

Tachibana blinked at the two word answer. "You can give me your honest opinion, you know."

"Well, if Tachibana-san wants to hear my honest opinion, the truth is I don't think the color suits you. It makes you look a little bit like a delinquent, and Fudomine already has a problem with our reputation, what with what happened last year. Plus you're our buchou and our coach, so it's even worse for you to look like a delinquent, and even if you didn't look like a delinquent, the color just doesn't look right."

Chitose and the others were all either chuckling or snickering, but Tachibana figured it was his fault for asking for Shinji's opinion. At any rate, they had probably spent enough time with Shitenhouji by now, and he didn't particularly want to stay in a room filled with pot smoke. If he wasn't careful, he'd forgot why it was he gave it up in the first place. In fact, why did he give it up? Tachibana shook his head, clearing such dangerous thoughts.

"Shinji," he said, "I'm going to go. Do you want to come with me?"

To Tachibana's relief Shinji nodded and got off the bed.

For his part, Shinji was also relieved. Finally, he thought, he could walk home alone with Tachibana and tell him how he felt. But his relief was cut short when Chitose also got up.

"I'll walk you guys home," he said, a rather idiotic grin on his face.

The three of them walked out of the hotel together. Shinji and Tachibana lived in the same area, so it would be awhile before they would have to part ways.

"You really don't have to walk with us," Tachibana said to Chitose, but Chitose only grinned and waved a small dismissal.

"Don't be silly, you know how much I like taking walks. Plus, I never get to see my favorite Kippei-chan."

Shinji sighed as he looked down at the sidewalk, watching his feet as they passed over the cracks. They were walking three in a row, Chitose in the middle, and Shinji thought maybe he just wasn't destined to confess to Tachibana today.

They were passing by a park when an unmistakable flash of red hair dashed in front of them, screaming obscenities and chasing after what looked like Momoshiro from Seigaku.

"Kamio?" Shinji asked, blinking after the two blurs. But, really, there was no to little doubt that it was his teammate.

"Wow," Chitose said, "another cute kouhei. You've been holding out on me, Kippei."

Tachibana sighed. "Not again. Why are those two always antagonizing each other? I better go make sure they don't get into too much trouble."

"I'll wait here for you," Shinji said, watching Tachibana run into the park after Kamio.

After Tachibana left, Shinji realized that he was now alone with Chitose. Chitose, who was currently smiling down at him and giving off pheromones like crazy. Shinji liked to pride himself on his self-control, but it's not as though he wasn't affected by the heavy, sweet smell. He could feel himself getting a little light-headed, even as he fought the feeling.

"What are you exactly?" Chitose asked, with each word coming a little closer to Shinji. "A jindo?"

"A shiba," Shinji replied, a blush on his cheeks as he stepped away.

"Huh. I'm an akita myself. A middle-weight, like my mom. But my dad's like a half American wolf, so I have some heavy-weight blood in me too. You can pretty much tell, right?"

"You're doing that on purpose," Shinji accused, referring to the release of pheromones and kon-gen and the fact that, yes, Shinji could tell more or less what Chitose was.

"Are you dating any one?" Chitose asked, seemingly out of nowhere, and Shinji realized all of a sudden that his back was pressed against a bicycle rack, Chitose right in front of him.

"No," he murmured. Chitose brought his hands up to hold on to the bicycle rack on either side of Shinji.

"Good," he said. "Then I don't have to feel bad when I do this."

He leaned down then, capturing Shinji's lips in his own. Shinji let the kiss go on for a little bit before coming to his senses, pushing Chitose away. His eyes widened when he saw Tachibana over Chitose's shoulder, a surprised expression on his face.

"Sorry," Tachibana said, and Chitose turned to look at him as well, "I guess I'm just interrupting things between you. I'll see you both tomorrow."

Shinji felt his stomach drop. Tachibana was walking away then, his pace rapid, and Shinji tried to go after him only Chitose was grabbing onto his arm.

"Hey," Chitose said, getting Shinji to face him, "do you like Kippei?"

Shinji didn't say anything, just attempted to tug his arm out of Chitose's grasp.

"Look," Chitose started, "I don't mean this to be offensive, because I like Kippei a lot, but. . . he's just a monkey, you know?"

"I don't care," Shinji replied, finally able to pull his arm out of Chitose's grip and run away.

Chitose couldn't help gawking a little bit as Shinji ran away. Man, what an insult to his pride. A part heavy-weight like him, rejected for a monkey. He laughed a little before turning around to head back to the hotel. Well, he thought, at least he had lost to Tachibana. Somehow, the thought made the rejection sting a little bit less.

Shinji ran after Tachibana. It didn't take long, since Tachibana hadn't had much of a head start, and Shinji grabbed onto the back of his shirt as the two came to a stop together.

"Tachibana-san." His heart was racing from some combination of running and nervousness. He wanted to say more, but he felt like if he opened his mouth right now everything would rush up and spill out, words and vomit and everything bad and good inside of him. But then Tachibana was talking, his words calm.

"Shinji. I can walk home myself. I'm sorry I didn't realize it sooner, but if you like Chitose you should go spend time with him. He goes back to Osaka after the tournament, after all."

"Tach-"

"Sorry," Tachibana said again. He turned, halfway looking back, his eyes downcast and a sad sort of smile on his face. "I guess I should have said something to you earlier. And now it's too late."

"Tachibana-san, I like you."

There. It was out, and Tachibana was turning to look at him directly. Shinji's heart was still racing. He had expected to feel different after confessing. Like a weight being lifted, wasn't that what it was supposed to feel like? But he still felt nervous, and his hands still felt clammy.

Then Tachibana kissed him. Pushed his chin up and pressed their lips together, and all of Shinji's nervous energy melted away. When they finally broke apart, Tachibana smiled down at him.

"Good," Tachibana said, "I like you, too."

Shinji wrapped his arms around Tachibana's waist and buried his head in his chest, inhaling deeply. He smelled like a monkey, but Shinji would take Tachibana's scent over anyone else's any day.

"Tachibana-san," he murmured, placing his chin on Tachibana's chest as he looked up, "are we going to have sex now?"

A flush spread out over Tachibana's usually expressionless features. "What kind of question is that to ask?"

"Well, you know, I read a lot of yaoi manga and novels. Not that I go and buy them myself, but Kamio's older sister likes to read them, and she lends them to me and really they're pretty interesting. But in those stories the main characters go through all these misunderstandings before they finally make each other realize their true feelings, and right away after that they always, always have sex."

"I think we'll take it a little slower than that, Shinji," Tachibana said, running his fingers through Shinji's hair. "Come on. I'll treat us to dinner."


	8. Visitors

What's for desert?" Marui asked, already digging through the boxes on the Sanada dining room table. "Hey, we're having Italian tonight, right? Tiramisu? Cannoli? Oh, man, I hope it's cannoli. . ."

"We're here to load up on carbs, nitwit," Niou said, swatting Marui on the back of his head, "not sugar."

Marui pouted. "Are you saying there's no cannoli?"

"Bunta," Jackal said, "we haven't even started eating the appetizers yet. Are you really going to go off about deserts now?"

"Marui," Yukimura interrupted, and the false sweetness in his voice made everyone freeze, "we'll be having fresh fruit."

No one said anything for a moment, but then Kirihara plopped his head down on the table, curls flopping this way and that.

"How boring," he whined.

"Now, now," Yanagi said, pulling a chalkboard into the room as everyone groaned. "We should be grateful that the school offered to pay for this catered, specially formulated meal."

"Don't tell me we're still going over strategy," Niou bitched, glaring at the chalkboard. "We already spent the afternoon talking about the enemies and possible line-ups."

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Niou." It was, unsurprisingly, Yagyuu who voiced this opinion. He was sitting next to his favorite doubles partner, legs crossed and back perfectly erect while Niou slouched over the table. Niou, who had a napkin tucked into the collar of his shirt. "There's only so much we can prepare at this late hour. Besides, we seem to be in a fairly easy bracket this year."

"That's true enough," Yanagi agreed, "but I thought we could brainstorm punishments for whoever loses a game tomorrow."

Kirihara lifted his head slightly. "Why can't we go with. . . what's it called. . . what's it called, Marui-senpai, the thing you were telling me about last week?"

"Positive reinforcement," Marui said, taking forever to say it since he had to sound out every syllable.

"Yeah," Kirihara agreed. "Like, Jackal's going to take Marui and me out for dinner and arcade games when we win tomorrow."

"When did I say that?" Jackal protested, even though he knew that he was going to end up doing it anyway.

"That's not the way Rikkai works," Yukimura said.

"My last kendo dummy broke," Sanada suggested, "I could use some one to stand in before the new one arrives."

"No," Yukimura said, "that's too violent, even for you. Besides, we'll still need to be able to play at the finals on Sunday."

"We can make the losers eat gouya," Kirihara suggested, and every one gave him a funny glance.

"I think," Jackal said, "you were paying attention to the wrong things at the Seigaku-Higa match."

"The losers can go to school dressed as 17-century french courtesans," Yagyuu offered, his voice as prim and proper as ever.

Niou snickered at that. "Yeah, right. When it comes to you, isn't that more of a reward?"

"Too much information," Jackal yelled, his arms a giant x in front of him. "Guys, please, we talked about this, right? My lecture on over sharing?"

A murmur of recollection passed through the tennis team. Jackal frowned, remembering how hard it was to get the troika to agree to let him use tennis time to discuss the fact that is was inappropriate to discuss exactly what positions elicited exactly what kinds of noises from Niou. But then Sanada's brother stuck his head into the dining room, holding something very leathery and very strappy in one hand and a cherry red gag in the other.

"Seichi," Kentarou said, "sorry to interrupt, but who do you think this would look better on, you or me?"

"Definitely you, darling," Yukimura replied, and Kentarou smiled before disappearing back into the hallway.

Jackal sat down, completely defeated.

"Losers have to clean the club house," Marui declared, "and I'm pretty sure someone just had sex in it today."

Every one agreed to that, eager to finally eat dinner. Niou had already joined Marui in pulling dishes out of the boxes, and even Yagyuu was already helping himself to some pasta.

Yanagi sat down with a sigh, the chalkboard left to stand neglected against the wall.

"Sorry, Yukimura," he said, but Yukimura was already shrugging it off.

"It's fine," Yukimura, lowering his voice so Kirihara couldn't hear, "except for the matches we plan to throw in the semi-finals, none of us will lose. It's the finals we should be concerned about."

"Who do you think it's going to be?" Sanada asked, wondering.

"It would be interesting," Yanagi said, "if you were able to play Atobe or Tezuka again, Sanada. But I think it will end up being Shitenhouji."

"No," Yukimura said. Yanagi had his data, but Yukimura understood tennis in a way that most people didn't. "It's going to be Seigaku."

Two hours later every one was done, and most of the club members had left. Only Sanada, Yukimura, and Yanagi remained, the three of them together. Just as it had always been, since their first year as students. Now it was their last, and Yukimura tried to stifle the nervousness and anticipation that threatened to rise in his stomach.

"Are you sure you don't want to head upstairs?" Yanagi teased. "I'm sure Kentarou's all tied up and waiting for you by now."

Sanada shuddered at the thought, wishing that Yanagi wouldn't discuss his brother's sexual habits in front of him.

"No," Yukimura replied, a smile on his lips that Sanada might have called sentimental if he hadn't known better. "It's our last tournament together. It's nice to spend time together like this."

Yanagi was about to echo that thought when all of them heard a ruckus coming from outside in the hallway. There were footsteps, a high-pitched scream, a crash, and another scream, this one shorter and deeper and sounding more disgusted than anything else. Suddenly a small black and white cat. . . no, a black and white cat with a monkey tail, came flying into the room to land clumsily on the table. A tall, muscular man with shaggy platinum blond hair followed.

"Sorry, Noririn," he said, not sounding very sorry at all. He was pouring anti-bacterial gel onto his hands and rubbing up his arm. "Reflex."

The cat was turning into a cute boy, with big, round eyes and black hair that hung down around his chin.

"Eh. . . it's okay, Yonekuni-senpai. I know how you are."

A third boy came into the room after them. He looked a lot like the blond boy, with the same build and height and ruggedly handsome features, but he had very short, tousled black hair. He brought a hand up to brush through it, sighing.

"Hey, Genichirou," he said. "It seems like we've made a mess in your hallway."

"Kunimasa," Sanada replied, "what are you doing here?"

It took a few minutes for every one to settle down. The two tall boys had taken to their seats with similar kinds of slouched, confident postures, a kind of regal nonchalance to their bearing. The small boy, on the other hand, was sitting on the edge of his chair, perky as he plucked leftover slices of fruit off of the serving platter.

"These are my cousins, the Madarame brothers," Sanada explained to Yanagi and Yukimura. "Distant, distant cousins. This is Kunimasa-"

Sanada pointed to the tall brunette.

"This is Yonekuni-"

Here he pointed to the blonde.

"And this is Norio, Kunimasa's fiance."

The small, cute boy waved at them and smiled from around an orange slice.

"I think," Sanada said, "I can guess at what happened outside."

"Oh, sorry," Norio interjected, blushing slightly in embarrassment, "that was my fault. I saw a spider and got scared, knocked over a few things, and accidentally grabbed on to Yonekuni."

"Yonekuni hates men," Sanada explained.

"It's almost a disease," Yonekuni added, shivering in distaste, "Just the thought of touching them makes me sick."

"I see," Yukimura said, suitably perplexed. "And you're all madararui as well?"

Three nods, of varying eagerness.

"That's so interesting," Yanagi said, leaning closer to Norio, ignoring the jealous growl that was starting to project from Kunimasa's throat. "Retrogrades are extremely rare, and yet we have two in Japan right now. And both snatched up by the same family."

"We're really only distantly related," Sanada corrected, "although I suppose our families are close enough."

"How did you two meet?" Yanagi asked, still focused on Norio.

Norio flushed red at the question, his smile suddenly very tense.

"Well, you see. . . I was in the subway station, and this guy. . ." Here he pointed at Kunimasa. ". . . grabbed me. . . and came all over my face."

Silence. Yanagi leaned back in his chair, smile frozen in place, while Yukimura averted his gaze from either Norio or Kunimasa. Even Sanada had a slight pink tinge to his cheeks.

"How. . . romantic," Yanagi finally said, completely deadpan.

Kunimasa cleared his throat. "Well, that's why we're here, actually. Our brother Shinobu told us you were in the same situation, in that you were dating a retrograde, and we came to see if you and Akaya were having the same problem we do."

"We can't have sex," Norio blurted out.

Sanada blinked. ". . . That's not a problem for us."

"Honestly," Yonekuni said, bringing a hand to his head, "why is it that you two can't even explain a simple concept? Genichirou, does Akaya have any problems controlling his kon-gen?"

"Actually," Sanada replied, "he picked it up pretty quickly. He still can't control his pheromones during mating season, and he loses it when he gets extremely angry, but that's about it."

"In that case," Yonekuni continued, "he's doing much better than Norio. Whenever Norio gets aroused, he loses complete control and turns into a cat. Obviously, that makes mating difficult."

"You really haven't been able to have sex?" Yukimura asked, somewhat in awe.

Norio was completely scarlet as he shook his head. "Nope."

"And you're actually engaged?" Yanagi asked.

". . . yeah."

"Aren't you both still in high school?" Yukimura asked. "Isn't an engagement. . . well, a bit much at this age?"

"Well," Yanagi explained, "since it's harder for madararui to conceive than it is for monkeys, we generally get engaged or married at a younger age."

Some tiny sense of fancy or whimsy stirred in Sanada at the statement.

"Maybe," he said, "I'll propose to Akaya."

Yanagi and Yukimura stared at him incredulously.

"Really?" Yukimura asked. "Really, Sanada? You won't even admit that you're dating, and now you're going to propose to him?"

". . . maybe I'll wait until after graduation."

"You know," Yanagi said, directing his words to Kunimasa, "maybe it will help Norio if he actually spends some time with Akaya. Or at least talk to him. Maybe, as retrogrades, they can figure something out."

Norio's expression brightened. "Yeah. I mean, it's worth a shot."

"Why don't you come to the tournament tomorrow?" Yanagi suggested. "You'll be able to meet Akaya there."

Norio looked eagerly at Kunimasa, who only shrugged.

"Isn't this why we came?" Kunimasa asked. "We'll go."

"How long are you two staying here, anyway?" Sanada asked. Not that he was particularly unhappy his cousins were visiting, but Kunimasa could be somewhat anti-social (and Sanada was anti-social enough for one household), and Yonekuni's ingrained hatred of men had issues of its own.

"Just two nights," Yonekuni answered. "Tomorrow night my mate will be here as well. Your mother's insisting we have a family dinner."

Sanada shuddered at the thought of a family dinner. Last time his cousins had come to visit, the waiter had accidentally brushed Yonekuni's fingers while taking away the menu, and had ended up it the hospital. Kunimasa, on the other hand, had let his eyes (and hands) wonder over to a pretty young fox at another table, leading to a very public fight with his then-girlfriend. Although Sanada had heard that Kunimasa was a changed man, now that he was with Norio.

The more worrying factor was Yukimura. This time around, Kentarou was sure to bring his boyfriend, which meant their mother would probably try to start some drama.

"Is that really necessary?" Sanada asked.

"If you don't like it," Yonekuni replied, "go talk to your mom about it. At any rate, she wants to take us to some new restaurant that's opened up. Also, Sanada, it seems as though I'm also in a similar situation with your ex-fiance."

"You mean Atobe?" Sanada asked, not really surprised that the news of their failed engagement had already made its way through the family.

"It seems we're both dating rare species, put under spells to seem like monkeys."

Yanagi raised an eyebrow at that, now intrigued to meet Yonekuni's girlfriend. To think that the Sanada-Madarame family family was such a windfall of exotic specimens. Well, considering they were all heavy-weights, Yanagi supposed he shouldn't be that surprised. At any rate, it seemed as though the conversation had died down, and Yanagi got up to leave.

"Well," Yanagi said, "it seems like it's getting pretty late, so I think I'll be going home now. We do have some tennis matches to play tomorrow, after all."

"Yeah," Norio agreed, "I'm pretty tired from traveling here."

"You two know where the guest rooms are," Sanada said to his cousins, "so make yourselves at home."

"I suppose I should go to sleep as well," Yukimura said. He got up and headed upstairs, throwing a casual wave back behind him. "Good night, every one."

Yukimura suddenly felt extremely tired as he made his way up the stairs. He supposed he still had yet to recover from his disease, at least not completely, and they had spent all day strategizing about their upcoming matches. That and all the madararui talk and he was about to pass out.

He stumbled into Kentarou's bedroom, noting in the back of his mind that Kentarou was wearing something very leathery and very strappy, and had a cherry red gag in his mouth. In addition to that, he was tied to all four bed posts.

"Did you know," Yukimura said, "that your cousins Kunimasa and Yonekuni are here?"

Yukimura pulled off his shirt and pants as he sat down on the bed.

"They're very interesting."

Kentarou was mumbling something, but Yukimura couldn't make it out.

"What's that, dear? I can't hear you with that gag in your mouth."

Yukimura laid down, contemplating the Sanada family. He wondered if Kentarou had any other strange relatives that would come out of the woodwork. It would certainly make things interesting. He laid an arm across Kentarou's stomach and kissed the other boy's chin.

"Good night, Kentarou."

Kentarou was making a noise that sounded equal parts disappointed and frustrated, but Yukimura was already drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Yanagi didn't know what possessed him to take such a meandering path home. He had never been one to enjoy aimless walks, and he had to get back to his home soon if he wanted to get a full night's worth of sleep. Although he wasn't particularly worried about their matches tomorrow. . . Kabuto wouldn't give them any problems, and neither would Kuroshio or Nagoya, despite the latter's recruitment of foreign players.

But he had felt such a deep sense of nostalgia, sitting in Sanada's dining room with Sanada and Yukimura. He remembered when they had met, the first day of their first year as students at Rikkai. They had been so little. Yukimura had been all arrogance tempered with false sweetness, and they had been completely taken in by his easy kind of confidence. Yukimura had proceeded to beat them both on the tennis courts, of course, swiftly and easily, and Sanada had nearly cried over it, despite his scowling otherwise. They had been fast friends, confidants in the tennis club, vowing to win Nationals for as long as they were together. And now they were together again, despite the illness that had threatened to take Yukimura away from them.

But the National tournament would be over in a few days. And Yanagi was smart enough to know they wouldn't be together for much longer, the three of them. Where would life take them, he wondered. Sanada had Akaya now, however much the two of them denied it. Yukimura had Kentarou, at least until Yukimura grew bored with him. And Yanagi. . . all Yanagi had were memories from a childhood that now felt so far away, of tennis on hot summer afternoons, scattered notebooks, and strangely-colored liquid concoctions.

There was a small movement in the grass then, something strange enough that Yanagi decided to check it out. He pulled back to grass blades where he heard the noise, and saw a small green and white snake.

"Kaidoh Kaouru?" he asked, a little but surprised to find Inui's kouhei here in this kind of state.

There was a small hiss, but Kaidoh couldn't really respond in his current condition. Yanagi leaned down to brush his fingers across Kaidoh's skin. The snake shivered at the touch. He felt a little cold, Yanagi thought. Strange, considering how hot it was that night.

"What happened to you?" Yanagi asked.

Well, it's not as though he could leave the boy here. Kaidoh didn't really seem like he was in critical condition, so it probably wasn't too much to worry about, but he probably shouldn't be spending the night sleeping on the hard ground. Yanagi unzipped his jacket and picked Kaidoh up in his hands, slipping him inside to nestle against his stomach.

Kaidoh was silent as Yanagi made his way home, still except for his slow breathing. Once he got back to his room, Yanagi was at a momentary loss as to what to do. Eventually he settled on making a nest of some towels, with a lamp overhead it. He picked Kaidoh up and deposited him in the towels, hoping that would be enough warmth for the other boy.

He ran his fingers over Kaidoh's spine, eliciting another shiver, though Kaidoh seemed now to be asleep. Really, thought Yanagi, this had been entirely unexpected.

"It's okay," he said, hoping that his tone was comforting enough. "I'll take care of you."

Yanagi shut off the lights, leaving the lamp on, and climbed into his bed. He'd have to ask Kaidoh what had happened when he woke up.

Kaidoh was having a really hard time opening his eyes. The last thing he remembered was drinking a thermos of some drink Inui had given him. It wasn't one of his stranger concoctions. It was more of a protein and vitamin shake then anything else, but apparently Inui had used something that wasn't quite compatible with Kaidoh's madararui body. Which wasn't surprising, considering Inui was a monkey and didn't really know about these things, but Kaidoh found himself losing control of his kon-gen. Before he knew it he was in snake form on the ground, his mind covered in some sort of haze.

He didn't remember much after that. Just fingers, warm and gentle, ghosting down his skin. Soothing words whispered around him. A sweet, dizzying smell. And now, opening his eyes, Kaidoh was aware of soft terry cloth all around him, and soft enveloping light.

Kaidoh coiled and then stretched, slowly controlling his kon-gen until he was in human form again, and stepped off where he was sitting on the desk. He could make out a figure on the bed, and he stepped closer to see who had saved him. He was somewhat surprised to see that it was Yanagi Renji. . . Inui-senpai's childhood friend, Kaidoh remembered, and he scowled a little bit at the thought.

But then Yanagi's hand was wrapped around his wrist, pulling him into the bed. Kaidoh could feel the flush that started spreading throughout his body as his back came into contact with Yanagi's chest. A soft snore, and Kaidoh realized Yanagi was still asleep. Then, a whisper, enough to make Kaidoh freeze.

"Sadaharu. . . " soft, almost reverent, and Yanagi's arm wrapped around Kaidoh's waist as he buried his nose in Kaidoh's hair.

Kaidoh was sure he wasn't flushed anymore. In fact, he felt all of a sudden cool. Kaidoh managed to disentangle himself from Yanagi's arms without waking the other boy, and looked down at him sadly. He really should go, and get some sleep in his own bed before tomorrow.

A few hours later, Yanagi's alarm went off. He opened his eyes to see that Kaidoh was gone, the lamp off and a stack of towels neatly folded beside it.


	9. Solution

Kabuto was a joke. Kirihara beat his opponent easily, not even breaking a sweat. Now all he had to do was wait for his senpai-tachi to beat the rest of them, and then wait for the semi-finals to start. He walked back to the bench, where Yanagi called out to him.

"Akaya," he said, "do you want to go scout the Kuroshio-Nagoya match? Yukimura's already there."

"No, that's boring," Kirihara whined. Both of those teams pretty much sucked, and if none of the troika were really worried about them, Kirihara didn't think he had to be either. "I'd rather go watch the Seigaku-Hyoutei match."

"Akaya," Sanada called, from where he was standing with two boys Kirihara didn't recognize, "come here."

Akaya scampered over to where Sanada was, checking out the new boys. One was tall and gave off a similar aura to Sanada's, while the second was small and cute and smelled very distinctly of the tall boy.

"Akaya, this is my cousin, Kunimasa, and his fiance Norio. Norio's a retrograde like you. Why don't you keep him company for awhile?"

"Huh?" Kirihara asked, but Sanada and Kunimasa were walking away. He stood there, looking at the other boy, who only smiled and stared blankly back at him. "Umm. . . do you want to go watch a tennis match with me?"

"Sure!" Norio said, oddly enthusiastic. Kirihara led the way to where he knew Seigaku would be playing, Norio almost skipping alongside him.

"I'm so jealous of you," Norio whined, his eyes almost tearful. "You get to have sex with Sanada as much as you want."

Kirihara nearly spit out all the water he had just gulped down. He turned to stare at Norio in confusion. "You. . . want to have sex with Sanada?"

"Oh, no!" Norio laughed at the suggestion as he waved his hands in front of his face. He was a pretty spastic guy, Kirihara thought. "It's just that. . . Kunimasa and I, we haven't. . . done. . . it, yet."

"Why not?" Kirihara asked, scratching his head. He thought after he asked the question it had been rude. . . maybe Norio and Kunimasa were celibacy freaks or something like that.

"Oh." Norio's expression was all of the sudden downcast. "Whenever I want to do it, I lose control of my kon-gen and turn back into a cat. That's weird, huh?"

"Yeah. It is, it really is."

"I thought it was because I'm a retrograde, but you seem to be normal." Norio seemed to be growing more and more dejected with every word. "And Kunimasa asked me to marry him, but if we can never have sex. . . I mean, he'd probably call of the wedding, right?"

"I would," Kirihara replied. But maybe that had been the wrong thing to say? He was only being honest, but Norio had seemed to be even more dejected with his words.

"So. . . Aka-chan, since we're practically family, you have to tell me your secret!" Norio grasped onto his hands, looking up at him with large, beaming eyes.

Kirihara scrunched up his face as he pondered the question. Controlling his kon-gen during sex had never been the slightest problem for him. "Umm. . . maybe you should try. . . not losing control when you want to have sex?"

Norio physically wilted in front of him. "It's hopeless, after all."

"Kirihara, who's your cute friend?"

All of a sudden Kirihara felt arms wrap around his waist from behind, and felt himself being pulled against a broad chest.

"Although, he has a kind of scary smell around him."

"Let go, Sengoku!" Kirihara said, elbowing the other boy in the stomach before spinning away. "What are you doing here, anyway? Didn't Yamabuki already lose?"

"Can't I," Sengoku asked between breaths, pitched over from where Kirihara had hit him, "come to watch some tennis?"

"Whatever."

"Seriously, though," Sengoku said, walking over to where Norio was standing. "This guy. . ."

Sengoku started to rub behind Norio's ears, Norio mewing at the touch. A few moments later Norio had very definite cat ears sticking out of his head, and a monkey tail coming out of his posterior.

"No way," Sengoku said, somewhat amazed. "Another retrograde? What are the chances? But why so sad, kitty cat?"

Norio sniffled as he leaned into Sengoku's touch.

"It's none of your business," Kirihara said, crossing his arms in front of him. "It's personal."

"Yeah?" Sengoku asked, dropping his hand to his side.

"Umm. . ." Norio blushed as the touch left him. "It's an. . . intimacy problem."

"Maybe I can help," Sengoku offered, grinning. His eyes were glinting in a way that made Kirihara a little bit suspicious.

"Really?" Norio asked, eyes hopeful again.

"There's no way this idiot can help," Kirihara said.

"If it's about sex," Sengoku said, his smile smug, "I can probably help."

The two retrogrades blinked at him, considering. Kirihara did have to admit that Sengoku's experience in the sexual arena trumped his considerably. He had definitely shown Kirihara a few tricks, the one night Kirihara had caved and they had slept together.

"I hate to admit it," Kirihara finally said, turning to face Norio, "but he might be right."

"Well," Norio started, apparently deciding to trust Sengoku, "whenever I try to have sex with my boyfriend, I lose control of my kon-gen, and end up turning into a cat."

"Okay, I think I know what you should do."

Kirihara and Norio waited, but. . . nothing. Just Sengoku, grinning at them in a half-idiotic, half-lecherous way.

"Well?" Kirihara asked. "Are you going to tell us?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On whether you're each willing to give me a kiss."

Kirihara and Norio looked at each other before shrugging. "Why not?"

Norio was first, stepping forward to give Sengoku a chaste kiss on the lips. Sengoku definitely wasn't going to press for more than that, considering the territorial scent that was coming off of him in waves. Kirihara, on the other hand. . . Sengoku knew for a fact that Sanada and Kirihara weren't the most possessive couple around.

Kirihara narrowed his eyes at Sengoku as he stepped forward, but Sengoku's expression was all innocence. Their lips met. . . and then Sengoku was literally sweeping him off his feet and sticking his tongue down his throat. Kirihara struggled for a moment before just giving in and kissing back. . . Sengoku might have been an idiot, with his constant exclamations of "lucky," but he was a damn good kisser.

After a few minutes they broke apart, and Kirihara stood back up on shaky legs. Maybe he should rethink this whole not sleeping with Sengoku kick he had been on lately. Norio was blushing a little, pretending that he wasn't watching them.

"It's simple," Sengoku finally said, "you should have sex with some one else."

"Idiot!" Kirihara yelled, as he went to punch Sengoku. "I knew you were an idiot! I can't believe I ever had sex with you!"

"Ow!" Sengoku laughed as he caught Kirihara's arms, pulling the smaller boy closer to him as he restrained his body. "Look, I wasn't just joking around. Norio, you're losing control because your emotions for your boyfriend are just too strong. Plus it's your first time. After you have sex with some one else, some one you don't care for as much, it shouldn't be such a big deal anymore, and you'll be able to do it with your boyfriend."

Norio pouted. It's true that he had never tried sleeping with anyone else, so maybe he would be able to control his kon-gen better with someone who wasn't Kunimasa, like Sengoku said. But. . . he didn't really want to sleep with anyone that wasn't Kunimasa.

"Do you really think that will work?" he asked.

Sengoku shrugged. "I don't know your complete situation, but it's worth a shot, right?"

He had started tickling Kirihara, just a little bit below the ribs, and Kirihara was twisting and arching against him in the most delightful way. Surely Sanada wouldn't mind, Sengoku thought, if he just borrowed Kirihara for a little bit.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

The three looked up at the newcomer, who had all but growled the statement.

Sengoku's eyes widened as he quickly pushed Kirihara away. "Akutsu? I thought you were abroad."

"I came back." Akutsu's anger was almost palpable around him now. Sengoku backed away from his taller, stronger, more martial arts-inclined ex-teammate. "You haven't changed at all. Getting it up for any girl that walks by, or any guy with half-decent pheromones."

Kirihara was about to object to that- his pheromones were top of the class, after all- but Sengoku had started to run away.

"Sorry, I have to go!"

Akutsu growled before running after the other boy, leaving Kirihara and Norio to themselves again.

"Sorry about that," Kirihara said, as they resumed their walk towards the Seigaku-Hyoutei game.

"It's okay," Norio said. Having sex with some one other than Kunimasa wasn't really an option, but he was starting to come up with another idea.

They had spent more time with Sengoku than they had thought, and when they got to the tennis courts the match was already on singles one. Kirihara saw a familiar redhead sitting in the bleachers, and he headed towards Kamio, Norio in tow.

"Hey," he said, "Fudomine lost already?"

"Shut up!" Kamio yelled, but from the bright red that spread across his face, and the fact that he wasn't denying it, Kirihara figured it was true. Come to think of it, Kamio was looking pretty tired right now. They really must have been out-classed.

"Kamio, this is Sanada's cousin's fiance, Norio. Norio, this is my friend Kamio."

Kamio blinked up at that, momentarily distracted from the match. Friends. Was that what they were now? He hadn't remembered being friends with a violent psychopath, but if that's what Kirihara was saying, he guessed he wasn't going to argue it. He supposed they had hung out a few times by now.

"Who's winning?" Kirihara asked, as he and Norio sat down next to Kamio.

"It's pretty neck and neck," Kamio replied, "but get this. Whoever loses has to shave their hair off."

"No way!" Kirihara said, trying to imagine either Atobe or Echizen bald. He snickered at the thought of it, while Norio looked at them wistfully.

"Tennis seems like a lot of fun," he said.

Kirihara could see Sanada, Yukimura, and Yanagi sitting some yards away from them. He waved, getting a smile back from Yanagi. Kirihara guessed that the Rikkai match had ended awhile ago, and that the Kuroshio-Nagoya match was probably over as well. The bleachers had filled up a considerable amount and everyone was pretty absorbed in the game. It seemed to take forever for it to finish, the last rally stretching on and on, until Echizen finally managed to pull ahead and win.

"I can't believe that brat beat him," Kamio pouted. It was ridiculous, Echizen seemed to win all his matches. It was downright annoying. They all watched as Echizen came back onto the court with a battery-operated electric razor in his hand.

"Why does he even have that with him?" Kirihara questioned.

Kamio winced as Atobe's hair was roughly hacked into a short hair do. Atobe was not going to be in a happy mood later tonight. All two hundred plus members of Hyoutei's tennis club were staring at the courts with their mouths gaping open, and even Atobe looked like he was going into shock.

"Kabaji," he finally said, running into the stands, "get my hair stylist on the phone. Now."

"Usu."

As Atobe rushed to his private helicopter, Kabaji in tow, every one's attention was drawn to where Seigaku was celebrating near the bench. Kirihara looked at his watch. They'd have about two hours before the semi-finals started.

"Hey," he said, turning to Kamio and Norio, "do you guys want to have lunch?"

Kamio shrugged, but Norio was looking up towards the entrance of the stand and waving. Kunimasa was standing there, gesturing for Norio to come over.

"Sorry," Norio said, "I have to go. See you at dinner tonight!"

Kamio and Kirihara watched as Norio ran off, and Kamio debated whether he should meet up with his teammates for lunch today or actually eat with Kirihara. But then again, no one was texting him. Ishida's brother was in town, after all, so they were probably hanging out with each other. And Tachibana and Shinji had shown up walking to the tennis courts together this morning, so. . . whatever had happened there, Kamio was guessing that maybe he should let them have some alone time together. And the others were kind of scattered lately.

"Do you want to go get some sushi?" Kamio asked. "Atobe gave me his credit card."

Akaya snickered. "It didn't take you long to get your claws on his wallet, huh?"

"It's not like that," Kamio protested, blushing. "I left my wallet at home today, I'm going to pay him back."

"Yeah, yeah, let's go." The two of them made their way out of the stadium, Kirihara looking strangely contemplative.

"Hey, Kamio," he said. "You're an eel, right?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, if you ate actual eel, would that be cannibalism?"

Kamio stopped mid-step, turning the question over in his head. "You know, I never thought about that."

That's one thing, he guessed, he'd have to ask Atobe about later on.

* * *

Kunimasa was very much aware that there were some people who called him a beast (among them, that idiot bear that Norio always hung around with). And he supposed his life was somewhat animalistic before he had met Norio. . . sleep, eat, fuck, sleep, eat, fuck, make some money, eat, and fuck again. He was a man who was controlled by his baser instincts (really, both Madarama brothers were), but he felt like he had been doing a commendable job lately of controlling those instincts (really, both Madarame brothers had). Hell, he was pretty sure he deserved a medal.

This was, of course, all due to one rather irritating retrograde, one whose smell Kunimasa had somehow become addicted to. And Kunimasa had to admit that it gave him some perverse type of pleasure to see his ring on Norio's finger. Mine, Kunimasa thought whenever he looked at it, property of Madarame Kunimasa. So instead of going off and fucking whatever pretty thing caught Kunimasa's interest, he was waiting patiently for Norio to get his hormones under control, content to jerk off in the shower with some scrap of Norio's clothing pressed against his nose. Which made him feel like some old, disgusting pervert, but. . . he could ignore that for now.

Now, as in, the middle of the day at the Sanada household, no one else at home and Norio underneath him. He had folded a dark bandanna into a strip, wrapped it like a blindfold over Norio's eyes. His fingers ghosted down Norio's chest, making short work of the buttons along the way.

"Are you sure this will work?"

"No. Don't talk," Norio replied, his voice a breathy whisper.

Kunimasa felt his eyebrow twitch. He wasn't completely kosher with the fact that Norio was pretending that he was someone else, even if it was "someone else" in an abstract fashion. But if it meant he got laid he wasn't going to complain. For now.

He leaned down, kissing Norio even as he pulled off his shirt. Norio's kisses were wet and a little bit sloppy, but so deliciously eager. They always got Kunimasa hard, always got him thinking about what else Norio would be eager to have in his mouth.

Kunimasa broke away from Norio's lips to press wet kisses down his chin. He pressed his lips against Norio's neck, tongue sweeping out to taste the salty sweet skin there, sucking at Norio's flesh. It would leave a mark, but Kunimasa wanted it to. Hickeys, love bites, and whatever else, proof that he was there.

And Norio. . . Norio was so responsive. Every touch on his skin elicited a moan, every swipe of the tongue an arch of his hips. He was shivering, obviously concentrating on his control, but able to enjoy Kunimasa's ministrations of his body at the same time.

Kunimasa's tongue trailed lower, down Norio's chest to capture a nipple in his mouth. Norio gasped, shivered some more, but Kunimasa's mouth was free of fur when he let go. His tongue painted circles as he trailed down Norio's abdomen, dipping into his bell button. Kunimasa moved a hand to cup over the groin of Norio's jeans, giving the hardness there a squeeze through the fabric.

Kunimasa unzipped Norio's pants, and took a clumsy moment to pull pants and boxers off of the other boy. There was the most attractive pink flush spreading across Norio's skin, and maybe there was something to this blindfold thing, because this was certainly the farthest they had ever gotten. Kunimasa momentarily wondered what was going on inside Norio's mind, but then decided it didn't matter.

He pulled Norio so that his legs were draped over the side of the bed, and kneeled on the floor between them. He leaned forward and took Norio's little cock inside his mouth, and Norio arched up violently as he did so, tangling two hands in his hair. While he took his time sucking on the other boy, his fingers fumbled with a bottle of lube, finally spilling it out onto his hand.

He took one finger and pressed it against Norio's entrance. So tight, he thought, scowling around the cock in his mouth as his finger only sank in halfway. It was slow work, but after awhile Kunimasa was able to fuck the other boy with one, and then two, fingers.

Kunimasa took his mouth off Norio's cock at the same time he removed his fingers, and Norio whimpered at their absence. But then he stood up, pouring more lube around Norio's hole right before positioning his cock there. He cringed as he pushed in, because it was still tight, too tight. Norio's breath caught as he felt the intrusion. It felt funny, almost uncomfortable, but it wasn't really painful.

Kunimasa slowed his breathing, trying to take control of his instinct to just ram his cock into that tight heat. But he pushed in slowly, until he was completely buried inside of Norio, and then he was just as slowly pulling out. Every thrust got just a little bit faster, just a little bit harder, until Norio was practically screaming in pleasure and Kunimasa was panting above him. He felt Norio come first, heard that gasp and felt the muscles clench around his cock. And then his cock was twitching, spilling itself into Norio's ass.

Kunimasa looked down at the other boy, who had his head thrown back and his eyes closed. As Norio's mouth stayed open in the shape of an o, Kunimasa thought that next time he'd make Norio take him inside his mouth. Make that cute little mouth suck him until his cum came out, and then make it suck on him some more. But that would be next time.

Norio's eyes were blinking open, glazed over from the sex and afterglow. As Kunimasa crawled up him to join him in bed, he threw his arms around Kunimasa's neck, pulling him down on top of him.

"I love you," Norio said, sounding sleepy and happy and generally just well-fucked.

"I love you, too," Kunimasa answered, finding that he really did.


	10. Family Dinner

Yonekuni was about to smother himself to death with a pillow. He had it pressed against his face, wrapped over both ears, and yet he could still hear all the moaning and panting and thrusting that was going on in the next door room. Beasts! Both of them! Didn't they know that there was some one else at home? Didn't they know that going at it four times in a row was disrespectful to their neighbors?

Fuck. Yonekuni threw the pillow across the room with enough force that it knocked over a bonsai plant sitting on a table there. He needed a shower. He figured there was something sick about him if he was getting hard from the noises his brother was making with Norio, but he hadn't had sex in a long time, and before that he was getting it multiple times a day with multiple women.

He turned the shower to its maximum temperature setting and stepped underneath it, letting the water run scalding rivers down his skin. It didn't give him any relief, though, his dick still red and stiff between his legs. Might as well, he thought, and he brought a hand down to wrap around his shaft, a little too tight, and moved it with violent yanks and twists of his wrist.

He leaned against the shower wall and closed his eyes.

Fujiwara. An image of swollen lips, parted minutely to let escape shuddering breaths. White skin that flushed deep pink with Yonekuni's touch. Half-lidded eyes, unencumbered by glasses, looking at Yonekuni like the only thing he needed in the world was Yonekuni's cock up his ass.

"Yonekuni," he said, words appearing as if by magic between moans and pants, "please. . . I want your cum inside of me."

"Shit." Yonekuni groaned as he came, white cum splattering on blue tile.

His heart was beating heavy in his chest, water pounding on his now red skin. He breathed, forcing himself to calm down. Fujiwara. . . what was this distance between them? Why was it so hard for him to bridge?

An hour later Yonekuni heard the doorbell ring, and ran downstairs to get it. Genichirou wasn't home yet, and the rest of the Sanada family was meeting them at the restaurant for dinner that night. Last he heard, Norio and Kunimasa were off to take a shower, presumably together, so no one else was going to answer that door. He opened the door to find Fujiwara standing there, looking as though he wasn't sure if he had found the right house.

"Hi," he said, pushing up his glasses. He was smiling in that hesitant way that he did when it came to Yonekuni.

Yonekuni stared at him for awhile. Fujiwara was so unlike the girls Yonekuni was used to dating. Yonekuni liked girls who were petite and slender, while Fujiwara was tall and broad-shouldered. Yonekuni liked flashy, pretty girls that stood out, while Fujiwara was only good looking in a very average way. Yonekuni liked blondes, and Fujiwara had short black hair that he wore neatly combed to the side.

And yet, it wasn't those girls that made his breath catch in his throat like this.

"Hey," he said, pulling Fujiwara towards him before pressing their lips together in a kiss.

Even Fujiwara's kisses were tentative. It was something Yonekuni really disliked about him, this hesitancy when it came to their relationship, like he was walking over thin ice. Yonekuni had some distant memory of a somewhat bolder Fujiwara, but it was too far away to grasp.

"Come on," Yonekuni said, pulling away, "I'll show you to our room."

Fujiwara nodded, his cheeks slightly flushed as he followed Yonekuni upstairs to their room. Yonekuni closed the door, and then he pulled Fujiwara closer to him again. His kisses, this time, were deeper, lingering, his tongue exploring the crevices of Fujiwara's mouth. Fujiwara's hands tangled in the front of Yonekuni's shirt. They broke apart, and Fujiwara looked up at him hopefully.

"Madarame?" he asked.

Why, Yonekuni asked himself. It had been so easy, with the Fujiwara in his imagination. And now he had the real thing, tangible and willing in front of him, and he couldn't. . .

When Madarame didn't answer, Fujiwara shifted, pressing their bodies closer together. He rubbed up against the taller man, frowning at what he felt. . . or, in this case, what he didn't feel.

"Madarame, maybe if I. . ."

Fujiwara tapered off, perhaps too embarrassed to finish his sentence. His eyes seemed to be asking permission, but Yonekuni didn't say anything. Even so, Fujiwara got on his knees and unzipped Yonekuni's pants, taking Yonekuni's limp cock in his mouth. Yonekuni shuddered as he felt that wet heat surround his cock, as he felt Fujiwara start to suck on him in earnest. And yet he still couldn't get hard.

After awhile Fujiwara stopped, eyes looking down and away in embarrassment.

"I have to take a shower before dinner," he said, getting up.

Yonekuni zipped his pants back up and fell backwards onto the bed. Was this, he asked himself, burying his face in his hands, what they called impotency?

* * *

"I didn't know the monkey was coming," Sanada Akari said, her smile tense as she glared at Yukimura. "Unfortunately, I only made reservations for ten."

"Mom," Kentarou whined, "they can always add another chair to the table."

"I suppose," Akari spit back. She mumbled something to the host, and soon they were placing a shaky plastic folding chair at the table.

"I assume," she said to Yukimura, "that's more than adequate to meet your standards."

Yukimura smiled. He was about to open his mouth to reply when he felt Kentarou's hand clasp over it. Kentarou was scooting him forward, towards the table.

"I'll sit in it," he whispered, "it's not a big deal."

Yukimura was stewing. In his opinion the Sanada matriarch was a petty, vindictive social climber. And while her husband had an extremely foreboding presence, at least he was content to stay silent when it came to most things. Sanada, Yukimura decided, must have gotten his anti-social nature from his father. Sanada-san was seating himself at the head of the table, and the others started falling into seats around him.

"What are you doing here?" Kirihara asked Atobe, who was sitting across from him.

"Why, of course I would be here," Atobe replied. "I'm the father of Genichirou's future baby, after all."

"Yes," Akari cooed, "you two are like sons to us already. I'm so happy both of you could come, unlike some freeloading, uninvited primates."

"Sorry we're late," Kunimasa said, entering the private room with Norio by his side. "Auntie, uncle, you remember Yonekuni's mate."

Kirihara sat up straighter in his chair, eager to see who Yonekuni had brought. . . except he didn't see any one.

"Where is she?" he asked. "Is she behind that guy standing next to you?"

Yonekuni blinked. "No. . . this man is my mate, XXX Fujiwara."

Fujiwara smiled and waved from beside Yonekuni. "Hello."

Sanada, Yukimura, and Kirihara blinked at Fujiwara in confusion, while Atobe wondered why they all seemed so perplexed by this situation.

"I thought," Sanada said, "you hated men."

"Fujiwara's an exception," Yonekuni stated, as they went to take their seats.

"Really, Genichirou," Akari said, "don't you listen to the family gossip when I tell you?"

"Not at all," Sanada muttered.

"I listen to you all the time," Kentarou said, beaming at his mother. Akari beamed back, and Yukimura glared darkly at them both.

"Oh, Kentarou," Akari said, "except for your choice in lovers, you're such a good son."

Yukimura decided, instead of replying to that comment, to turn to the newcomers. He remembered Norio's story about meeting Kunimasa from last night, and figured that Fujiwara and Yonekuni's story had to be a good one too.

"So," Yukimura asked, "how did you two first get together?"

"Well," Yonekuni, looking as though he was pondering the question himself. "I can't really say. I don't remember it."

There was confused silence for a little bit, Fujiwara blushing slightly. But then Fujiwara stammered as he tried to explain. "Whenever Madarame used to get sick he'd get into this daze, and he would come to my house. From there it turned into something sexual, but he never had any memory of it. Later, when he found out. . . I guess, he agreed to being in a sort of trial relationship with me."

"I'm not so sure," Atobe said, "we needed quite so much information. But thank you, I suppose, for sharing all the same."

Yukimura froze as a plate was being put down in front of him.

"What is this?" he asked, voice cold.

"Oh?" Akari replied. "Is that not your usual diet?"

Every one looked down to see two unpeeled bananas, and nothing else, on Yukimura's plate.

"Oh, bananas!" Kentarou said nervously. "I love bananas! Here, Seichi, let's switch dinners."

Sanada sighed, glad that his idiot brother had actually managed to diffuse that situation. Conversation seemed to break up into smaller groups after that, something that was inevitable considering how many people there were.

"So from what I gather," Atobe said to Yonekuni, who was seated between him and Sanada, "you were sleeping with Fujiwara without even knowing it? How is that even possible?"

Yonekuni shrugged, not really knowing himself. "I'd only go over to Fujiwara's house when I was weak. You're cold-blooded, you know how easy it is to get sick."

"Yes, but I've never made love to some one without knowing it before."

"It's not like I like not remembering," Yonekuni replied, his gaze fixed at Fujiwara, who was sitting near the other end of the table. While his memories of those times with Fujiwara were mostly sealed away, he had glimpses of them. Fevered words and gentle embraces. . . they made him uncomfortable, even as he relished them. "But it's like that was a different person. It's a part of me that Fujiwara knows, a part of me that I don't."

At his end of the table, Shiro was also being questioned on the topic of his relationship with Yonekuni.

"You and Yonekuni-senpai are getting along, aren't you?" Norio asked.

Fujiwara frowned at the question. "What makes you say that?"

"Well. . . at the Christmas party, Yonekuni was being so affectionate with you."

"Christmas party?" Kirihara asked.

Fujiwara blushed at the memory. It had been months ago. . . he had been embarrassed, but so happy, when Yonekuni had pulled him into his arms in front of every one at his family's Christmas party, had placed a kiss on his hand. "Well, since then. . . things have maybe gotten worse."

Norio frowned sadly. "You mean he still won't touch you?"

"What do you mean?" Kirihara asked. "Do you have the same problem that Norio does?"

"Aka-chan," Norio complained, "you're being so noisy."

"No, Kirihara," Fujiwara said, "it's just that, ever since the first time we slept together while Madarame was conscious, after that he wouldn't touch me at all. That changed after the Christmas party, somehow, but now. . ."

Fujiwara was blushing fiercely now, eyes fixed resolutely on his plate, as though there was something of great interest located there. "Now, it seems, Madarame can't get hard when it comes to me."

Fujiwara shook his head, voice dropping almost to a whisper. "It's hopeless, after all. I was wrong to think that I was good enough. . . in the end, Madarame really does hate men, doesn't he?"

A heavy silence seemed to settle over the three of them, but then Norio grinned and punched Fujiwara in the arm. "You're wrong! You'll see. Yonekuni-senpai's definitely working out some issues, but he really does love you."

Kirihara frowned as Norio comforted Fujiwara. He had thought the members of Rikkai had relationship problems, but Sanada's family really had any of them beat. He got a text message from Yanagi then, and he flipped open his phone to read it.

"Rain," it said, "finals postponed until Monday."

Kirihara almost groaned. He was looking forward to getting revenge on Seigaku, especially now that Yukimura was back. Ah, well, Seigaku would live to fight another day, he guessed the saying went.

Every one finished eating dinner soon, thankfully without an incident occurring between Yukimra and Akari. The adults left directly after paying the bill, leaving the kids to decide the next plan of attack.

"I suggest," Atobe said, "that we have a goodbye party for your lovely cousins. Say, at my house?"

"I suppose I can text the rest of Rikkai," Yukimura agreed.

"Oh, fun!" Norio exclaimed. "Fujiwara, you're coming, right?"

Fujiwara's face brightened up, but Yonekuni was already getting up.

"Pres. We're going home."

Fujiwara looked over at Yonekuni, then sent an apologetic smile towards Norio and the rest of the group. "Thank you for the offer. It was nice to meet all of you."

Yonekuni and Fujiwara walked back to the Sanada household in silence, the air between them tense and heavy. Norio was a good friend, Fujiwara thought, but he really didn't know the situation. He didn't know Yonekuni as well as Fujiwara did. He waited until they were back in their room, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

"Madarame," he said, "I think we should break up."

Fujiwara swore he could feel the air around them get colder as Yonekuni froze in his movements. Yonekuni turned to face him, his expression unreadable. "What do you mean by that?"

Fujiwara looked at the floor, the walls, the ceiling, anywhere but where Madarame was standing. "I don't want you to force being with me. If you only like women, there's no way you can be with a man."

Yonekuni wasn't saying anything, and Fujiwara could almost feel his heart catch in his throat. So that was the situation after all.

"I can stay in one of the other rooms," he said, turning to leave. His hand was on the doorknob when Yonekuni reached out, his fingers wrapping around Fujiwara's wrist.

"You're wrong," he said, "this isn't about you being a man."

"Then what is it?" Fujiwara asked, not brave enough to turn around. "Is it just me, then?"

"No, I. . ." Yonekuni wasn't sure what it was. But, it seemed, every time they were together, Yonekuni couldn't help but think about his other self, the one who Fujiwara knew so intimately. In his head there were locked away memories, memories that belonged to some one else. Everything that had been going through his mind, everything he wanted to say, came spilling out. "You call me Madarame, but you called him Yonekuni. It's him that you're in love with, isn't it?"

Fujiwara could feel his heart rate beat even faster, but he thought he was starting to understand now. He turned back around, leaning against the door. Yonekuni looked confused standing there in front of him, and he reached out to brush some blond strands of hair out of Yonekuni's eyes. "Madarame. . . are you jealous?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Yonekuni said. He seemed, uncharacteristically, a little bit like a petulant child. "How can I be jealous of myself?"

"In that case, should I tell you about the Yonekuni that you don't know?"

"Should I tell you," Fujiwara said, pulling Yonekuni forward, "how you like to kiss me?"

Fujiwara was blushing, embarrassed, but he pulled Yonekuni down towards him so that their lips met. Slowly, like time had come to a stop. Hungrily, each kiss as though it had been forever since the last.

"What else," Yonekuni murmured against Fujiwara's lips, "do I like to do?"

They were pressed against each other now, Fujiwara against the door and and Yunekuni between his legs, no space between them. Yonekuni's arms were resting on the door, a hand buried in Fujiwara's hair.

"After that. . ." Fujiwara panted as Yonekuni pressed even further against him, Yonekuni's breath on his ear. "After we take our clothes off. . . when you're getting me ready. . . you like to twist your fingers together when you move them in and out of me. You like to scissor them when they're inside, but you don't like to keep them in there for too long, because you like it a little too tight when you fuck me."

Yonekuni shuddered and grinded against Fujiwara. He was hard now, could feel Fujiwara's erection rub against his through the fabric of their clothes. He hadn't done this since he was a barely pubescent kid. . . dry humping against some girl until they both got off. But it felt so good, right now, and he couldn't stop.

"Should I tell you your favorite position? You like to be on the bottom the best. You like to watch me when I'm riding you, but I never know if you're watching my expression or if you're watching where your cock's disappearing inside of me."

Yonekuni's hips continued to shallowly thrust against the other boy, and his cock felt so good grinding against Fujiwara's, even with the fabric in the way. He brought his hand behind Fujiwara, somehow fitting it underneath the fabric of his pants to caress smooth skin there. He pressed his fingers against that small hole, and Fujiwara arched as they entered him.

"But," Fujiwara after awhile, shuddering and panting but still able to speak, "after awhile it's too hard for you to just lay there and watch, so you grab my hips and start thrusting up into me. Eventually you flip the both of us over, so that I'm on my back with one leg over your shoulder and it's like you're even deeper than you were before. And when you start thrusting you do it hard and fast, until we're both cumming, and I can feel your cum shooting inside of me."

Yonekuni shuddered as he came, spilling himself into his boxers. He'd need to clean up, eventually, but. . .

"And then what?" he asked, lifted his head back to he could look at Fujiwara.

Fujiwara was looking at him with half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks, his words coming in shuddering breaths. "And then you like to do it again."

Yonekuni leaned down to capture Fujiwara's mouth, his tongue swirling in that wet heat. He was still so hard, and he fumbled with Fujiwara's pants even as he roughly turned the other boy over so that his stomach was pressed against the door. He unzipped his own pants, and then his dick was pressed against that little hole and he was roughly shoving it in.

Fujiwara gasped at the intrusion, but he thrust back against him, and then Yonekuni was fucking him, hard and fast with no semblance of rhythm and order, the wood of the door seemingly about to splinter and break with every thrust. Fujiwara wished they could fuck like this forever. It had been so long, and he never felt as right as when he had Yonekuni's cock inside of him.

But his own cock was rubbing against the door, and maybe it would be sore a little bit later, but right now it felt so good. He felt himself coming, biting his tongue to keep from screaming as he did so. He felt Yonekuni empty himself inside of him then, felt the cum drip out a little from where they were joined. Then both boys sank to the floor in a tangle of limbs, sweaty and hot and temporarily sated.

It took awhile for either of them to come back to their senses, and when they did they found themselves spooned together on the floor. Yonekuni's chest was pressed against Fujiwara's back, an arm around Fujiwara's waist.

"There's only one you," Fujiwara said, once he was able to speak again. "Whether you remember or not, you're the man I've always been in love with."

Yonekuni pulled Fujiwara closer against him, closing his eyes as he breathed in Fujiwara's scent.

"Fujiwara. What you said at dinner, about this being some kind of a trial period? This isn't just a trial. Not for me, not for a long time now."

Fujiwara smiled, for the first time a little bit secure in what they had together. "I understand, Yonekuni."


	11. Mix Up

Somehow, Atobe's going away party for Sanada's cousins ended up turning into a tennis club social. Of course, Atobe had invited the two hundred plus members of Hyoutei's tennis club. Yukimura had invited the rest of Rikkai. And Kamio (who was obviously invited by Atobe) invited his teammates at Fudomine.

So why, Atobe wondered, did he keep seeing players from other schools here as well? Although he guessed it didn't particularly matter. He surely had enough alcohol and space to accommodate them all.

He made his way past a certain couch where Mukahi was currently antagonizing Eiji from Seigaku.

"Of course self-fellatio is possible. I can do it." It sounded as if Mukahi was bragging. "It's probably yet another way that I'm better than you."

"Nya, that's vulgar. Oishi, don't you think that's vulgar?"

"Do you want to see?" Mukahi asked, winking at a nearby Chitose, who looked as though he was deciding whether or not he was interested.

Atobe shook his head and made his way onwards. To find three Fujis standing in the other room.

"This is so amazing," said the shortest Fuji, "you two really look like me."

"Well, yeah," said another Fuji, his lips a lopsided grin, "ever since our match with you guys Yagyuu's been really into this kind of cosplay stuff."

"Is it really only me, Niou-kun?" the third Fuji asked. "I've never heard any complaints from you."

"Tezuka," Fuji said, turning towards the other boy and grabbing onto his arm, "don't you think that this could be a lot of fun? You could have three Syusukes all to yourself."

Tezuka's face was pale. He looked up then, eyes meeting Atobe's, a plea for help written across his otherwise stoic face. Atobe pretended not to see him and walked on. There was no way he was going to get in the way of someone like Fuji Syusuke, at least not off the tennis courts.

"Atobe."

Atobe turned at Oshitari's voice. Oshitari had his arm draped over the shoulder of a blond, slender boy that Atobe recognized as one of Shitenhouji's players.

"Atobe, you've met my cousin, Kenya."

"Of course," Atobe said, reaching out his hand, "it's nice to see you again."

"I was just telling Kenya," Oshitari said, "that you would love to have a shot with us."

A glass was being pushed into Atobe's free hand, something translucent and green. Atobe sighed, but he would be remiss as a host if he didn't drink with his guests.

"Cheers," he said, as the three of them knocked their glasses together before slamming them down. Atobe made a conscious effort not to cringe at the vile-tasting stuff. "What exactly was that?"

"Equal parts patron and midori," Kenya replied.

"Those two things. . . do not really go together."

"So, Atobe," Oshitari continued, "what exactly is this makeshift party for, anyway?"

Atobe was about to reply when someone glomped onto his arm, and he looked down to see Kamio. The red-haired boy's face was flush, his eyes glazed over.

"Akira," Atobe said, "are you drunk?"

Kamio grinned and nodded as he rubbed up against Atobe. "Atobe, I really want to do it right now."

If he was more uncouth, Atobe might have spit out his drink. "Excuse me?"

"You don't want to?"

Kamio was actually pouting.

"Fine," Atobe said, "there are guest rooms down that hall. Go wait for me in one of them."

Atobe watched as Kamio ran away, thinking that so much alcohol during mating season might not have been such a good idea. Then he turned, seeing Sanada sitting alone in some far corner of the room. He made his way over, noting that Sanada looked the same as he always did, only somewhat redder. Every now and then he made a small sound. . . a hiccup?

"Sanada," Atobe said, highly amused, "are you drunk?"

". . . maybe."

"Why don't you get some rest? You're bringing down the ambiance."

Sanada was too drunk to say anything back, only nodded and stood up. Atobe would have led him to a room when Ohtori came running into the room, his face fraught with worry.

"Atobe!" he called. "Some one just drove your dad's red porsche into the pool!"

Atobe gritted his teeth and put a hand to his head.

"Great," he said, turning to walk towards the pool.

Sanada wavered on his feet a few seconds before heading off himself, determined to find a place where he could lay down. He was done. If he drank anymore he'd be sick. As it was he was already feeling more than a little buzzed, although he was determined not to let it show. Unfortunately, Sanada was susceptible to the infamous "asian red," and his cheeks were currently flushed a deep pink as he made his way down the halls..

His eyes scanned the rooms as he walked past, taking in the gay monkeys and madararui who were ending up in fleshy piles on the floor and on the couches, the straight monkeys looking on with faintly scandalized expressions. Hmmph. Just because it was mating season didn't mean they couldn't control their urges. They should use some discretion, Sanada thought in disgust, not wind up in a make-out orgy in the Atobe mansion.

"Look out below!"

Sanada stepped back as a mattress came flying down Atobe's grand staircase. With Marui and Kirihara on top of it, yelling like they were cowboys riding horses. The mattress slid into the next room, where there was a loud and resounding crash. Sanada could feel his head already start to throb.

What he really needed to do was get to sleep. He made his way to the guest bedroom wing, relieved to find that it was much quieter than the rest of the house. He opened the door to a room, surprised to find it was already occupied. By Kamio. Wearing nothing but a tank top. With a hand on his cock and two fingers up his ass.

"Kamio." Sanada slammed the door behind him. "What are you doing?"

Kamio looked up at him. His skin was flushed red, but he didn't look particularly embarrassed. His eyes were glazed over, lips moist and pouting, and he didn't seem as though he was going to remove his hands from where they were affixed to his body.

"Waiting for Atobe," he breathed.

Usually Sanada wouldn't care for such an open display of wantonness. Maybe it was because he was drunk, or maybe it was the fact that Kamio's smell was filling up the room, but Sanada could feel his dick getting hard. He reached back and locked the door behind him before making his way towards the bed.

Kamio didn't protest as Sanada gently pushed him down onto the blankets, his arms landing on each side of him. His legs spread out as he fell, small cock bobbing a little as his tank top rode up.

"Is this okay?" Sanada asked, his hands already moving up Kamio's sides. Kamio's skin shivered wherever his fingers touched, his skin flushing at the contact. His tank top rose, higher, until it was bunched at the top of his chest, his two nipples hard and pink.

"What about Atobe?" Kamio asked, arching as Sanada's mouth came down to pull a nipple into his mouth. He gasped, reaching down to tangle his hands in Sanada's hair, knocking the baseball cap off Sanada's head and onto the floor. Sanada looked up at him, tongue rubbing circles on Kamio's nipple, and Kamio flushed to think that the other boy looked handsome without his cap on.

"Forget about him for now," Sanada said, making his way lower.

Sanada traced his tongue down the contours of Kamio's abdomen. To be honest, Sanada wasn't usually a very sensual lover. Efficient was the word that he would have used to describe his lovemaking, but there was something about the alcohol and Kamio that made him want to take his time. He kissed and sucked, enjoying the heat and slightly salty taste of Kamio's skin. They would leave marks, later, but he didn't particularly care.

Sanada stopped his ministrations and leaned back, attention moving to where Kamio's cock was curving upwards into the air, slender and pink as it rose out of a light scattering of red curls. Sanada bent down and took it in his mouth, listening to Kamio gasp and moan.

Kamio whimpered when Sanada stopped, but the older boy had other plans. Sanada slid his hands under Kamio's ass and pushed upwards, spreading Kamio open. Kamio's cute little hole came into view, wet and slick from whatever Kamio had been using before.

"Does it always twitch like this?" Sanada asked, watching it shiver and move as he ran his finger around its rim. Kamio was too busy panting and moaning to answer, so Sanada went ahead and pressed his finger inside. Sanada watched as it disappeared easily into Kamio's hole, then pulled it back out and pushed it in again. Kamio was thrusting back towards his touch, so eager, but Sanada removed his finger and kneeled up on the bed.

Sanada pulled off his shirt and shorts quickly, tossing them on the floor.

"Come here," he said, pulling Kamio towards his waist as he laid down on the bed. Kamio, apparently, could take the hint, and he soon shifted so he was between Sanada's legs, eyes on Sanada's cock.

"It's so big," he said. "Bigger than Atobe's."

Sanada smirked. So he had beaten Atobe once again. But then Kamio was wrapping his hands around the base of Sanada's cock and sucking the tip into his mouth, and Sanada forgot all about his rivalry with Atobe. He watched as Kamio enthusiastically licked and sucked his cock, lips pink and swollen. He could come just like this, watching Kamio suck him off, but he had other plans.

Sanada grabbed Kamio's arms and pulled him forward, mashing their mouths together in a series of sloppy kisses. He could feel Kamio's dick rub against his stomach, and thrust his own dick against Kamio's thigh.

"Ride me," he whispered, a little surprised when Kamio obeyed so obediently.

Kamio moved so he was straddling Sanada. His tank top fell back over his stomach, but his cock was still visible, pointing up towards his stomach. He reached one hand backwards to balance himself on Sanada's thigh, and used the other to grab Sanada's cock and position it at his entrance. He bit his lip as he lowered himself onto Sanada's cock, inch by inch.

"So good," Sanada murmured, watching as his cock disappeared into Kamio's hole. Kamio started bouncing on him then, really riding him, and Sanada closed his eyes and thrust his hips up as he concentrated on how amazing it felt. Kamio was the first to come, spilling himself onto his stomach. At the sight of it Sanada grabbed his hips, moving him up and down on Sanada's cock more forcibly than he had been able to move before. Soon Sanada came as well, shooting himself into Kamio's body.

Kamio all but collapsed onto Sanada's chest, burying his face in his neck. His breathing was erratic and quick, his skin damp and hot. Sanada brought a hand up to hold the back of Kamio's head, his fingers tangling in soft strands of air. He could hear his own breathing, louder than normal. He could feel their heartbeats, fast and pounding against each other.

That had been amazing. Sanada only hoped that Atobe wouldn't mind so much.

* * *

Atobe's head was pounding as he woke up, the alcoholic stupor he had been in before giving way to awful, awful pain. He shuddered and pulled himself up into a sitting position in the bed, grabbing the glass of water someone (no doubt Kabaji) had remembered to put on the nightstand. He tipped the glass down his throat, marginally aware of the fact that some one was stirring on the bed.

"Akira," he said, "do you want some water?"

Atobe turned around, only to drop his glass as he took in a headful of black curls and shocked green eyes.

"Atobe?" came a surprised voice.

"Kirihara. What are you doing in my room?"

But then a rush of rather obscene memories ran through Atobe's head, rendering the question superfluous.

"Nevermind. Come on, let's get you out of here."

"You don't need to tell me twice," Kirihara mumbled, already pulling on his clothes. Once the two were ready, they opened the door to go out into the hallway. . . only to watch as the door across the hall opened as well. To reveal Sanada and Kamio, both looking not a little disheveled.

There was a short, befuddled silence as the foursome stared at each other.

"I believe," Atobe finally said, "you have something that belongs to me."

"Trade?" Sanada asked.

"Agreed."

Sanada pushed Kamio towards Atobe at the same time he grabbed Kirihara, and then the Rikkai players were making their way out of Atobe's mansion.

"Well," Atobe remarked, turning towards a blushing Kamio, "that was certainly an interesting night."

"Atobe. . . are those claw marks on your back?"


	12. Surprise

True to prediction, it was a rainy, dreary Sunday, certainly unfit for any tennis matches. Yanagi supposed the tournament coordinators had made a good call, though he wondered if the weather would clear up in time for tomorrow's scheduled rain date.

As it was, Yanagi was making his way down the fairly empty streets, listening to the rain as it pounded down on his umbrella. It didn't take him long before he came to a certain nondescript house in the Tokyo suburbs, and he knocked on the door, waiting for Inui to let him in. Sure enough, Inui didn't disappoint. Yanagi could hear his footsteps as he came down the stairs, and then the door was being thrown open.

"Sadaharu," he said, smiling, "I was hoping you could treat me to some lunch."

"Renji. Come in, come in."

Yanagi closed his umbrella as he crossed over the threshold, shaking it a few times before leaning it against the wall. Inui was explaining something as he led them to the kitchen, something about his mother being out at the grocery market or else she would have loved to see him. He was serving Yanagi some rice and grilled fish, and Yanagi hoped that it had been cooked by Inui's mother because Inui wasn't exactly much of a cook.

"So," Inui said, finally taking a seat across from him at the kitchen table, "what brings you here?"

"I can't just come visit an old friend?"

Inui chuckled slightly at that. "As much as I enjoy your visits, they're far and few between."

"Maybe I would come visit more," Renji said, a teasing gleam in his eyes, "if I weren't so hurt by the fact that you never come to visit me."

"Well. I suppose we'll both have to make more of an attempt to spend time together."

"I wholeheartedly agree."

The kitchen table was small, and Inui's hands were within a chopstick's distance from where Yanagi held his bowl of rice. Close enough to touch, but Yanagi was smart enough to know not to.

"At any rate," he said, finding it safer instead to discuss tennis, "I was wondering if Seigaku has decided on their line-up yet."

Inui's expression hadn't changed, but Yanagi could see the gears in his head start to turn. He wasn't trying to get privileged information, though, and Inui knew that. Both teams had certain interests regarding what matches they wanted to play, and it wouldn't harm either of them to make sure that happened.

"I would," Inui started, testing, "enjoy playing against you again."

"That would be fun. I'll be in doubles two with Akaya; I'll even tell him to try not to injure you too badly. And, you know, Sanada has a deep interest-"

"In playing Tezuka." Inui smiled. That much was common knowledge. "We'll be placing him in singles three, interestingly enough. We had assumed Yukimura would be placed in singles one."

"And you want your Echizen to play against him." Yanagi sighed, completely clueless as to why Echizen's teammates had latched onto him the way they did. The boy was arrogant and ill-mannered, as far as Yanagi could tell. "Well, you had assumed correctly."

Yanagi relaxed in his seat, now that their business had been taken care of. He was about to ask what exactly were Inui's plans for the rest of the day, when footsteps sounded from the hall, and a third person entered the kitchen.

"Inui-senpai, your father let me in. Sorry for being late."

"Don't worry about it, Kaidoh."

Well. Yanagi wasn't sure why he hadn't expected that, considering the fact that Inui and Kaidoh seemed to be close. Even so, Kaidoh's sudden presence was a surprise. Yanagi turned around to find that Kaidoh was staring directly at him.

"Hello, Kaidoh," Yanagi said. "Are you doing better?"

The boy was silent for so long that Yanagi wasn't sure if he was going to answer. Despite his temper and obligatory scowl, all information sources pointed to Kaidoh being a chronically shy boy. And a bit of a cross-dresser, if Shitenhouji's Konjiki was to be believed, but Yanagi hadn't cared to follow up that rumor.

"Yes," he finally replied. "Thank you for the other day."

"Oh?" Inui looked back and forth between the two of them. "Did you two run into each other recently?"

"I found your kohei in quite the state a few nights ago," Yanagi said. He turned to Kaidoh. "What happened, exactly?"

"An allergic reaction to something in Inui-senpai's vitamin drink."

Inui was already taking out his notebook. "I'm so sorry, Kaidoh. You'll have to tell me which one it was so that doesn't happen again."

"It's okay, Inui-senpai, it wasn't so bad." Kaidoh glanced at Yanagi again before turning back to Inui. "Can we go now?"

"Yes, of course. Renji, I'm sorry to end this visit, but-" Inui stopped in the middle of his sentence, his face brightening. "Actually, why don't you come with us? We're searching for an ingredient to put in one of my drinks."

"In this rain?" Yanagi asked, incredulous.

"Yes, well, that's the thing. It's a fungi that only comes out when it's raining. We've been waiting for weather like this ever since. . . well, ever since last week, when it rained, but our search wasn't very fruitful then."

"I wouldn't want to interrupt," Yanagi said.

"No, we'd love to have you along. It will be just like when we were kids. Kaidoh, you don't mind, do you?"

Kaidoh was frowning, but he only hesitated for a moment. "It's fine with me."

After Inui passed out plastic bags and laminated photographs of the fungi they headed out, each sheltered under the expanse of his own black umbrella. Inui led the way, Kaidoh and Yanagi clustered a little bit behind him.

"This is pretty nostalgic, isn't it, Renji?" Inui asked, his voice slightly muffled by the rain.

"Yes. To think that you're still making those horrible concoctions of yours."

Inui laughed, a deep, sinister sound. "They have their uses."

Kaidoh was looking at Yanagi again, this time in a rather curious way. "Did Yanagi-san used to go on walks like these with Inui-senpai?"

"Always," Yanagi replied, grinning at Kaidoh in a vaguely smug way. "We would spend hours outside, just the two of us, looking for all sorts of things to put in Sadaharu's juice. Then when we'd get tired we would go back to my place and Sadaharu would sleep over, clinging to me the whole time because he thought my house was haunted. Sadaharu used to be so cute back then."

"Renji," Inui said, his voice scolding, only he was laughing as well. "You're going to give Kaidoh the wrong idea about us."

"Yes." Yanagi was careful not to let his smile slip from his expression. "Well. . ."

"Inui-senpai and I have gone on a lot of these walks, too," Kaidoh stated, his eyes on Yanagi's, but Yanagi felt it was better not to outwardly react to the statement.

"Well, this is it," Inui said, coming to a stop in a small clearing in the forest. "We should split up and look for it. Maybe meet up here in an hour?"

The other two stated their assent, and then they were parting. As he crept into the forest, eyes carefully scanning the shade beneath trees and roots, Yanagi wondered what exactly it was that he was doing here. Did he actually think that doing this would bring him closer to Sadaharu? It was a foolish thing to think, given the space that had sprung up between them after he had moved away.

After awhile he came across a silhouette some yards in front of him. From the green cloth atop the figure's head, he figured it was Kaidoh, and frowned to see that the other boy was sitting on a rock without his umbrella to shelter him. Yanagi hurried over, holding his umbrella over the both of them. Kaidoh looked up at him, and he could see that the younger boy's arm had a long cut in it, and he was attempting to bandage it with just his other hand.

"I fell," he said, but Yanagi was already kneeling down next to him.

"Hold this," Yanagi said, pressing his umbrella into Kaidoh's hand. "Really, considering your kon-gen, you should be careful not to get too wet."

As Yanagi took Kaidoh's arm in his he saw that Kaidoh's umbrella was laying discarded on the floor, but only filed that detail away for the time being. Instead, he took Kaidoh's arm in his hands.

Yanagi's fingers ghosted around the cut, Kaido's skin shivering beneath them in that familiar way. The cut was long and bleeding quite an amount, but it was fairly shallow. Nothing that would affect the use of his arm, and nothing that wouldn't completely heal in more than a few days. Yanagi took the bandages and started wrapping them around Kaidoh's arm, oblivious to the lack of distance between them and Kaidoh's rising body heat.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

Yanagi looked up, but the planes of Kaidoh's face were cast in shadows at the moment. He wondered if Kaidoh was talking about this or about before. Probably both.

"I suppose," Yanagi said, "it's because it's the decent thing to do. I don't mind helping you. . . even if we are in love with the same person."

Yanagi had expected at least some small shift of emotion to come over Kaidoh's face, so Kaidoh surprised him by not reacting to the statement. Kaidoh only looked at him, and there was silence except for the rain pouring around them.

"Well," Yanagi continued, his voice lower and harsher, "I suppose it could also be because I sympathize. After all, sexuality isn't a malleable concept for monkeys, like it is for us. A straight monkey is a straight monkey, isn't he?"

And that had always been the rub. Long walks, sleepovers, Sadaharu's given name flowing freely from his lips. But it had never been, and it would never be, anything more than just platonic.

Kaidoh gently tugged his arm away from Yanagi at the same time that he leaned forward.

"The truth is,"Kaidoh said, his eyes dark with some unnamed emotion, "I've gotten over Inui-senpai a long time ago. Why haven't you?"

The kiss was so brief and so light that, later on, Yanagi wondered if it had happened at all. But, at the moment, he was sure he felt Kaidoh's lips brush softly against the corner of his mouth, before the other boy grabbed his umbrella and ran away.

Yanagi listened to the quick footsteps, half eaten up by wet dirt. His head was a blank, and he wasn't sure if he should be confused or surprised. He could hear Inui calling both of them now, and he stood up, bringing two fingers to the part of his mouth that Kaidoh may or may not have kissed.

The next ten minutes passed in a haze. Rejoining the other two, Inui eagerly showing off the fungi he had found, Kaidoh nodding and smiling in half-false sincerity. As though nothing had happened, and then they were parting, Yanagi walking one way and the Seigaku players walking another.

Yanagi didn't know where to go, so he went to Sanada's house. He found the other boy in a back room, in a XXX as he practiced kendo strokes. The paper screens of the far wall were open, the rain falling beyond it, rain drops breaking like brittle pins on the leaves and rocks of the Sanadas' immaculate Japanese garden.

They didn't say anything to each other. Yanagi took a seat against the wall, next to where Kirihara was sleeping on the tatami floor. And for some time, watching Sanada practice against the rain, Yanagi felt at peace.

Yanagi didn't know he had fallen asleep until he was being woken up. Soft snickering, and Yanagi blinked his eyes open to see Kirihara's face, a black marker in his hand and its felt tip dangerously close to Yanagi's face.

"Akaya," he said, voice heavy with sleep, "what did you draw on my face?"

"Nothing, Yanagi-sempai."

More snickers, but Yanagi didn't mind. He reached out, burying fingers in Kirihara's hair and ruffling it as Kirihara grinned at him. The soft jingling of porcelain sounded from from the doorway, and Yanagi looked up, surprised to see that it was Yukimura and not Sanada who was bringing in the tea cups.

"I can make tea too," Yukimura said, almost pouting at Yanagi's expression. "Akaya, Sanada needs your help with something."

"With what?" Kirihara asked, but he was already getting up.

"I'm not sure, but he's in the kitchen right now."

Kirihara ran off, and Yanagi went to sit at the small table where Yukimura was pouring them both cups of tea. The rain had stopped.

"Are you okay?" Yukimura asked, his eyes searching as he raised his cup to his lips.

"I'm fine."

"Hmm. You've been acting a little strangely lately."

"Are you worried about my tennis game?" Yanagi asked, teasing.

"Every now and then," Yukimura said, a small smirk on his lips, "I do recognize that the world doesn't revolve around me. I'm allowed to care about you outside of your use to the tennis club."

"Of course." But the emotions and thoughts swirling like a typhoon through Yanagi's head didn't exactly manifest in words. So he didn't say anything, despite the questioning looks that Yukimura was giving him. They sat in comfortable silence, drinking tea and listening to the cicadas as they started to come out.

Walking home later on, Yanagi's confusion gave way to a profound sense of self-depreciation. He felt altogether pathetic. I've gotten over Inui-sempai a long time ago, came Kaidoh's voice. Why haven't you? And why hadn't he? He was still living three years in the past, idealizing a childhood crush that had never, would never, turn into something substantial. Every one around him had some one, but he only had fragments of memories, filtered through some rose-colored lens.

"I'm home," he called, stumbling into the foyer of his home.

"Welcome home," his mother called back, in her soft, dulcet tone of voice. "You have a friend waiting upstairs in your room. Ask him if he wants to stay for dinner."

Yanagi brightened at that, wondering who his surprise guest for the evening was. He made his way upstairs, opening the door to his room to find Kaidoh sitting on his bed.

Kaidoh had his back slowly hunched over, legs stretched out in front of him, his attention focused somewhere in the floor. But with Yanagi's entrance he straightened and looked up, eyes blinking in mild surprise.

"Yanagi-san," he said, "why do you have a mustache and beard drawn on your face?"

Ah, yes. Yanagi had forgotten about that.

"I fell asleep," Yanagi explained, coming to sit at his desk, "and Akaya decided to have some fun. But, Kaidoh, why are you here?"

"I came to apologize. I was too abrupt, this afternoon."

"Oh, that." Yanagi leaned against his chair, bringing his arms to cross in front of his chest. "There's no need to apologize."

"No, I. . ." Kaidoh hadn't been looking at him since he first entered, eyes flitting to and fro, but now he did again. "Do you. . . can you wash those things off your face? It's hard to talk to you seriously right now."

"Oh. Yes, of course."

Yanagi got up and walked to the bathroom, seeing for the first time the handlebar mustache and goatee that Kirihara must have drawn earlier. Kaidoh's presence in his room had him a little stunned, but the water helped. He felt more refreshed, more himself, when he re-entered his room. This time when he sat down, he sat down on the bed next to Kaidoh.

"Are you in love with Inui-senpai?" Surprisingly strait forward and direct. If Yanagi hadn't been thinking about it all day, he wouldn't have known how to answer the question.

"I'm not sure," he answered, because that was the most honest thing he could say. Love, infatuation, fixation. . . they could be hard to sort out. But the fact was, it had been three years, and they were both completely different people now. "Probably not."

"Yanagi-san. I'm not sure if it's because of the season we're in, but ever since that night you took care of me, I've liked you." Kaidoh's cheeks were a furious red, his eyes glaring at some point near his sneakers. Yanagi wondered if he was going to say any more, but it seemed as though he was content to wait for Yanagi's reply.

Yanagi sighed. "It. . . it's not as though I don't like you. It's just that I haven't really thought about it."

Kaidoh was certainly cute enough. And he had stuck up for Yukimura that one time, against Murigaoka, something that had endeared him to Rikkai's tennis club after they had all found out about it. But Yanagi didn't really know Kaidoh, and he had never been like other madararui, able to fall in love or like by scent alone. But. . . he was willing to take a chance.

"Renji!" Yanagi's mother called from downstairs. "It's time for dinner! Is your friend staying?"

"I should go," Kaidoh said, voice almost a whisper as they stared at each other.

"Do you. . . do you want to go out on a date this Friday? There's a poetry reading at a book store that I wanted to go to."

"Yeah," Kaidoh answered, the flush on his cheeks lessening. "I'd like that."

"I'll walk you to the station."

"You don't have to."

"Well, at the very least," Yanagi said, "I'll walk you to the door."

The two walked downstairs in semi-awkward silence, then Yanagi opened the door for Kaidoh to leave. The younger boy did so almost tentatively, feet slow to step over the threshold. Kaidoh's lips were almost a pout. It made Yanagi want to kiss him, and he decided to act on impulse for once. He reached out to grab Kaidoh's wrist, pulling them together and pressing their lips together in a way that was almost chaste.

They pulled back after a second, and Yanagi let Kaidoh's wrist go.

"Good night, Kaidoh," he said. "Good luck tomorrow."

The small smile on Kaidoh's face threatened to send Yanagi's heart into somersaults.

"You too," Kaidoh replied, and, as he turned away. . . "please don't be too angry when we beat you."

And then, before Yanagi could answer, he was running away.


	13. Resolution

Yukimura was quietly seething. To most people he might have seemed the same as he ever was, but his teammates could see the how tight his smile was, how tense his muscles were. He didn't say anything, though, until he was back at Sanada's house with Sanada and Yanagi, at which point he promptly picked up the nearest object (Sanada's favorite shouji board) and threw it at the wall.

"This is bullshit," he said, his calm tone of voice belying the darkness emanating from him. "Am I really supposed to believe that the third door of Muga no Kyouchi is having fun? If that's the case, a lot of people would be playing a hell of a lot better than they do now. I overcame an incurable, debilitating disease. I was never supposed to play tennis again. And some snot-nosed first year with a rotten personality beats me because, apparently, he's having more fun? Bull. . . shit!"

Yukimura picked up another object (Sanada's favorite tea cup) and threw that against the wall as well, where it shattered into pieces and joined what was left of the shouji board. Yanagi and Sanada thought it best not to say anything, only sat as Yukimura's breathing calmed down.

"The only reason he wins all his important matches," Yukimura muttered, "is because he's the protagonist."

"Excuse me?" Yanagi asked, confused.

"Oh. . . nothing, I didn't say anything." Yukimura took a deep breath, after which he seemed a little bit more composed. "Renji, Sanada, I'm sorry you had to see me like that. Sanada, I'll pay for back for the property I broke, of course."

Sanada only scowled as he picked up what was left of his beloved possessions.

"Hey," came a voice, followed by the sound of a bubble popping and Marui's head popping through the door, "are you guys done with troika private time yet? We all want to go eat."

"Let's go," Yanagi agreed, "we need to get our minds off the tournament."

That suggestion, however, was easier said then done. There was a definite dark aura around the Rikkai tennis club as they made their way down the streets, all of them stewing in their own thoughts, none of them saying anything. It was Niou who was the first to attempt to lighten the mood, saying something about going to Seigaku and stealing the trophy, but no one laughed or said anything back. Even dinner was tense, all of them picking at their noodles on silence.

"This is ridiculous," Yukimura finally said, throwing down his chopsticks. "We were supposed to be celebrating."

"Yes, well," Yagyuu said, "it appears that our plans were impeded."

"No," Yukimura said, shaking his head. "Not just about Nationals. After we won, I was going to tell you all. . . after graduation, I'm going to England."

There was silence for a little bit, then Marui's drawn out "no way." After that murmurs of congratulations sounded from around him. There was a sense of disbelief, but every one was genuinely happy for Yukimura, of course.

"I had wanted," Yukimura continued, "this to be a celebration of both things. But, if we can't have Nationals, at least we can cheer to me eventually turning pro."

"That's definitely something we can all cheer to," Yanagi said, lifting his glass and smiling. They all clinked glasses. After that, the mood was lighter, happier, as they all started to reminisce about tennis club and Rikkai and speculate as to what their futures held.

Later on Sanada walked back to his home, thinking things over. He already knew that Yukimura had plans to go to England. Yukimura had told him in advance, him and Yanagi, and he hadn't been at all surprised by it when he first heard. Tezuka was going off to Germany, Yukimura to England, and Echizen to the United States. Of all the students playing in Japan right now, those three seemed most suited to professional tennis. It was true that Sanada played, played well and with discipline, but tennis had never defined him as it seemed to define those three. It was equal in his heart with kendo and calligraphy, and if he had neglected those two pursuits in the last few months it was only for Yukimura's sake. To make sure Yukimura would be able to play in the tournament, once he recovered from his surgery.

It wasn't long before Sanada was back in his room and some one was knocking on the door. Sanada answered it to find Kentarou standing there, looking a little distraught.

"Hey, Gen-chan," he said, ignoring Sanada's scowl at the nickname, "sorry about Nationals."

"Thank you," Sanada said, attempting to close the door. Kentarou, however, stuck his body half through it so Sanada couldn't force it closed.

"Yeah, you know, I've been trying to call Seichi, but he hasn't answered?"

"He's been busy with the team," Sanada replied. "You know that."

"Yeah." Kentarou chuckled a little. "You're right."

Feeling a little sorry for his older brother, Sanada decided to try comforting him a little bit. "Besides, he's probably busy planning his move to England."

"His. . . what?"

Apparently that hadn't been the best thing to say, as Kentarou was now looking at Sanada with a shocked and somewhat hurt expression on his face. Sanada shifted nervously on his feet.

"I'm sure. . . he just forgot to tell you."

Apparently that hadn't helped either, as Kentarou only looked more hurt. Finally Kentarou shook his head, plastering a smile on his face.

"I'm going to go try to call him."

"You should do that," Sanada said, grateful when his brother finally left. He wasn't exactly surprised that Yukimura hadn't said anything to his brother. Yukimura tended to play his cards close to his chest, and it was hard for others to discern his motives or actions. Still, Sanada thought, even for Yukimura, it was a little bit cold.

* * *

"Hmm?" Yukimura asked, sipping on a bottle of tea. "I guess I forgot to tell him?"

"That's cold, Yukimura," Marui said, a small pink bubble popping before being pulled back into his mouth. "Isn't the boyfriend the first person you're supposed to tell?"

"I've had a lot of things on my mind," Yukimura said, a little defensively.

The third year regulars on the tennis club, minus Yagyuu and Niou, who were keeping each other company in detention, were eating lunch outside that day. There was a large tree that the six of them liked to frequent, shady and set off from the rest of the school. Quiet enough to discuss school and hobbies and tennis, without being interrupted by giggling schoolgirls or irritating classmates.

"Though. . . I guess that's why he sounded so mad when I talked to him on the phone last night."

Even Sanada was surprised by Yukimura's obliviousness.

"Honestly, when were you going to tell him?" Jackal asked.

"Actually," Yukimura said, "I was thinking. . . maybe it's time for us to break up."

There was silence as every one figured out to respond to that. Yukimura and Kentarou had been together for nearly three years, ever since they were all first years. By any standard, it was a long time to spend with another person.

"Geez," Marui said, frowning, "suddenly the mood here got so serious."

"Hmmph," Sanada interjected, "he was never good enough for you anyway."

Yanagi openly laughed at that. "Really, Genichirou, your antipathy for your brother never ceases to amuse me."

Jackal changed the subject then, so that they were all talking about something that didn't matter anyway. It wasn't long before lunch was over and they were all walking back to their respective classrooms. When Sanada got to his he sat down in his seat next of Yagyuu, who was already there and still wearing his disciplinary badge.

"How was lunch detention?" Sanada asked as he took his seat.

Yagyuu's eyes glinted a little bit, in a way that made Sanada quite sure that he didn't want to know why. "Fine, although I don't believe Niou-kun and I took it seriously enough. I had to assign us detention for tomorrow as well."

"Of course."

The rest of the day passed fairly quickly. Now that there was no more tennis practice, they had more free time to do other things, and Sanada was looking forward to focusing on his kendo for awhile. He was walking through the hallways when he caught sight of something in one of the classrooms. A student, sitting by himself, and a curly mop of black hair on his desk.

"Akaya?" Sanada asked, walking into the classroom. It was odd for Kirihara to still be there. He hated spending time in the classrooms, and was usually the first one running out once the teacher dismissed them.

"Sanada-fukubuchou?" Akaya turned his head to face Sanada, although he kept it resting on his arms in front of him. His lips were just slightly turned down, eyes somber.

"Don't you usually go out to eat with Marui and Jackal after school?"

"I don't want to today."

Was Kirihara still upset about Nationals? Sanada thought about kendo and the dojo and how he hadn't gone in so long, but then he turned to look at Kirihara, who was staring at nothing and looking like he wasn't going to move anytime soon.

"Come on," Sanada said, "let's go on a date."

Kirihara didn't perk up at all, but at least he got off the desk and stumbled into step beside Sanada. They walked to the nearest arcade, because Sanada didn't really know where else to take him. Soon Sanada was emptying quarters into the machines, watching as Kirihara played through the games half-heartedly.

Kirihara's features, usually so animated, were strangely still. His skin and eyes were bathed in the light coming off from the video screen, garish color combinations that always gave Sanada a headache. Sanada wondered what was bothering Kirihara, wondered if he should say anything. But every time he tried he found he didn't know what to say. So he tugged his baseball cap on a little bit lower, shifted awkwardly, and didn't say anything.

It only took an hour before Sanada's wallet was emptied out. They walked home in silence, the same way they had spent most of their afternoon. Finally, Sanada stopped, watching as Kirihara took a few steps forward before realizing Sanada wasn't there and turning around.

"Don't worry," Sanada said, "you'll win Nationals next year."

"Mmm. . . yeah, I know."

They stared at each other for a few moments. Was he wrong, Sanada thought, in thinking that Kirihara was upset about tennis? He was trying to think of what to say next when Kirihara started talking on his own.

"Is Yukimura-buchou really breaking up with your brother?"

"Maybe," Sanada said, wondering why Kirihara would care about Yukimura and Kentarou's relationship.

"I've been thinking. . . Niou-senpai was saying stuff about how most couples our age don't stay together. And now Yukimura and Kentarou are breaking up, even though they always get along really well. And, I thought, we're always fighting, and I don't even like you at all half the time."

Sanada's eyebrow twitched at that.

"We're not even dating, really. So how long can this thing between us really last, Sanada-fukubuchou?" Kirihara looked away, his face contemplative.

Sanada shifted his feet, feeling a little bit awkward. Eyes looking off to the side somewhere, his hands reached up for his baseball cap, tugging it off and plopping it down on Kirihara's head. Kirihara looked up at him, confused.

"After you graduate," Sanada said, watching as Kirihara adjusted the cap over his curls, "we should get married."

"Really?"

Sanada nodded. "It's my responsibility to make an honest man out of you."

Kirihara smiled at that, his arm wrapping around Sanada's as they continued their walk home.

Once Sanada got home he opened the door, only to blink, confused, at the sight of Yukimura and Kentarou in the living room, happily looking through pamphlets.

"Oh, Sanada," Yukimura said, smiling softly, "I changed my mind about breaking up with Kentarou."

Kentarou, grinning like an idiot, held up a pamphlet for Sanada to see. "I'm going to study abroad in England!"

Sanada gritted his teeth as he walked upstairs. Maybe next time. . . maybe next time, they would actually break up for real.


	14. Omake

Sengoku lingered outside the door of the apartment building, scared shitless. He knew he should knock on the door. . . but he really didn't want to. It's okay, he told himself, Akutsu was probably calmed down by now. It had been a few days since he had seen Sengoku hitting on Kirihara. He was probably fine.

Sengoku raised his hand to knock on the door. Then lowered it again. Maybe he could come say hello tomorrow. Akutsu would be mad at him for not coming sooner, especially since Sengoku knew Akutsu was back home, but one day probably wouldn't make a difference.

Mind resolved, Sengoku was about to turn away when the door opened.

"Che," came Akutsu's harsh voice, his head turned back towards the interior of the apartment, "just shut up about it, I'll be back soon."

Then Akutsu turned, looking down at Sengoku with eyes that spiraled from surprised to angry in a matter of moments.

"Bastard!" he shouted.

Sengoku would have said something, except that his attention was focused on some unexpected details. One, Akutsu was snapping bubble gum, instead of smoking a cigarette. Two, Akutsu had a baby sling slung over his chest. And three, there was a baby hyena in that sling, a bubble of snot coming out of its nose as it slept.

If he had been paying attention, he also would have noticed that Akutsu was very, very mad. In that case, maybe he would have dodged the left hook that Akutsu sent flying away. Unfortunately, he didn't, and soon found himself crumpling against the apartment railing as he blacked out.

"Kiyusumi? Kiyosumi, are you okay?"

Sengoku blinked open his eyes to see Akutsu's mother staring down at him. He was laying on the couch in their living room as Yuuki pressed a frozen chicken cutlet to the side of his face.

"Hey, Yuuki. You look as beautiful as always."

"I see you haven't changed."

Sengoku took the chicken from Yuuki's hand as he sat up, fighting the wave of dizziness that rushed through his head. After it had cleared he looked around the small apartment. Akutsu and Yuuki had never been particularly clean, but Yuuki did her best to keep it in presentable shape. Now though, they was clutter scattered all over the floor, toys and diapers and baby bottles.

"Don't worry about Jin," Yuuki said, smiling at him, "now that he's gotten a good punch in, he probably won't be mad at you when he comes back."

But Sengoku's head was focused only on one thing. The baby hyena. A hyena, just like Akutsu.

"Yuuki," Sengoku said, a feeling of dread rising up in his stomach, "did you have another baby?"

Yuuki laughed at that, a lighthearted sound that only scared Sengoku even more. "You're so silly, that's Jin's baby."

"Who. . . who's the father?"

Yuuki blinked at him, bewildered. "Didn't Jin tell you? It's yours, of course."

Sengoku passed out again.

When he came to a second time he was on the floor. The couch was pulled out into a bed, and there was a ball of fur rolled up in the middle. Sengoku crept closer, not really believing it was there. It was curled up, its legs and tails tucked in towards its stomach, eyes pressed closed. Its chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm, and it looked so tiny Sengoku was afraid to touch it.

"At this point," Yuuki said, coming out of her bedroom, "she really just sleeps all the time."

"She?" Sengoku turned back to the baby. She. His daughter. It seemed like such an abstract concept. Sengoku looked up, watching as Yuuki sat down on the love seat. He realized that there were sounds from the kitchen, and looked over to find Akutsu chopping vegetables. Which wasn't entirely surprising. . . Akutsu had never been a model son, but he always tried to have dinner ready for when Yuuki came back from work. At least, on those few nights when she wasn't pulling a late-night double shift somewhere.

Akutsu looked angry. But, then again, Akutsu always looked angry.

"I never thought," Yuuki said, watching the baby sleep, "that Jin would end up following in my footsteps."

"It's not like I tried to get pregnant," Akutsu bit out.

Which brought Sengoku to another topic. "How did this happen?"

"I'm thinking it happened when we had sex," Akutsu muttered, throwing the vegetables into a wok.

"No, but. . ."

But then Akutsu stomped over to his bag, grabbing a box and throwing it at Sengoku's face. "Remember these?"

Sengoku looked down at the small cardboard box in his hands. The condoms he had bought before? Madararui were generally resistant to stds, so most of them didn't bother unless pregnancy was in issue. But Akutsu had insisted, what with Sengoku's reputation, and the redhead had run to the nearest madararui-affiliated convenience store to grab a box.

He looked at the box, reading it for the first time. "New Product. . . MalexMale Special Condom. . . Parasite in the Tip. . . Super Permeable. . . Super Lubed. . . Super Ribbed For His Pleasure."

Sengoku turned pale. This looked like. . . a condom especially made for getting pregnant. "Parasite. . . in the tip? What the hell? Do these things actually exist?"

"Well," Yuuki said, "they're still experimental. And most of the time they don't even work. After all, it usually takes time for a parasite to latch on."

"I guess we're just lucky," Akutsu said, glaring at Sengoku as he all but spit out the last word.

"When do you find out?" Sengoku asked, making his way to the kitchen.

"Dinner's ready," Akutsu said, more to his mother than any one else. Then he turned to Sengoku. "You. Outside."

As soon as they were outside Akutsu went to lean against the wall, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and slipping it between his lips.

"Should you be doing that?" Sengoku asked, coming to rest against the railing in front of him.

Akutsu shrugged as he lit it up. "I'm not pregnant, and I'm not near the baby."

"Still. . ."

Akutsu ignored him, though, and took a few drags on his cigarette. After awhile he seemed a little bit calmer, a little bit more relaxed. "I found out when I was abroad. So I decided to have Hitomi over there before I came back."

"Hitomi. . ." so his daughter's name was Hitomi. This was all too surreal. Yesterday Sengoku was just a normal student, and now. . . what, was he a father? Out of nowhere? "You had the baby by yourself?"

Akutsu shrugged again. "No. Once Yuuki found out I was knocked up, she let my dad know. Can you believe it? She always told me she didn't know who he was, and now all of a sudden he's some no-talent would-be artist living in San Diego. A few miles away from me. Like she couldn't have told me when I went over there."

"Your dad." To tell the truth, Sengoku hadn't known much about Akutsu's life. Although it seemed as though Akutsu didn't either. All Sengoku knew was that Yuuki was always working at least two jobs, and Akutsu had a lot of time to spend by himself. Sengoku would show up, sometimes, late at night when he knew Yuuki would be working some midnight shift. Akutsu was hard to find during the day, off doing God knew what. But Akutsu was always there at night, on that fold-out couch that he called his bedroom, flipping through channels on their small television. Nothing to watch, but nothing else to do, no one else to talk to. And he had always let Sengoku in, always, even if it was just to watch television together. "What's he like?"

"He's an idiot. He can barely speak Japanese, despite living here a year. But, you know. . ." Akutsu looked away, eyes darker somehow. ". . . he probably would have been a good dad. Can you believe she never told him about me?"

Sengoku took a deep breath. "So, what? Are you and Hitomi just staying on Yuuki's couch now?"

Akutsu turned back to glare at Sengoku. "You think I have somewhere else to go? Look, I can take care of Hitomi on my own. We're going to be fine, just like Yuuki and me were, so don't feel like you have to do the noble thing just because you couldn't keep your dick in your pants. Besides, you and me both know that you're just not that kind of guy."

"Akutsu. . ."

But Akutsu was already stamping out his cigarette and making his way inside, slamming the door on Sengoku's face. Sengoku knocked on the door, than banged, only stopping when the neighbors started shouting at him to shut up. At any rate, it didn't seem like Akutsu was going to open the door. He sighed and turned, heading home.

But as much as Sengoku had tried to continue the conversation, he couldn't help that Akutsu was right about him. He wasn't a noble guy. He tended to run away from trouble, and rarely stuck things out when they got difficult. Even when he learned that he had a kid, the first things he thought about were how the thing was going to affect his studies, how it would affect his dating.

Sengoku felt almost ashamed of himself, thinking about what Akutsu must have been going through these past few months. Doing it on his own, huh? Sengoku figured he probably didn't know any other way to do things.

Well, whatever. Sengoku would think about it tomorrow.

* * *

Sengoku was never what anyone would call a good student, but that day in school he was even more distracted than usual. When he was in class, his eyes stayed focused on Akutsu's seat, still empty after all these months. And every time he was in the hallway, the cafeteria, or any other public area, his eyes would scan the crowds for bleached grey hair, waiting for Akutsu to come to school late.

By the end of the day he still hadn't seen Akutsu. Somewhat disappointed, Sengoku made his way to Banda's classroom. There wasn't any tennis practice any more, not for the third years, and the lower classmen wouldn't start practicing again until next week, so that was the most logical place to find the old man. Sure enough, Banda was in there, talking to some second year about some math problem. Sengoku took a seat near the back of the room and waited, watching the soccer team through the window as they started up the fall season. It was nice, he thought. . . to be at the beginning, and not the end.

Soon enough Banda was finished with his student, and came over to lean against the desk in front of Sengoku's.

"Is there something you needed, Sengoku?"

"Yeah," Sengoku replied, balancing his head on a hand as he leaned forward on the desk. "Do you know where Akutsu is?"

"Hmm? Isn't he in America?"

"He came back," Sengoku replied, watching as Banda's smile faltered. "I thought he'd be back in school, but he hasn't come to class since he's been back."

"That kid." Banda sighed, his gaze falling out the window. "I haven't heard anything from him. As far as I know, he hasn't re-enrolled in this school."

"Oh. Okay, well. . . thanks anyway."

"I thought he was serious about training in America," Banda said, his usual smile now a frown. "What could have made him quit?"

Getting pregnant, Sengoku thought, though he wasn't about to say that. Some vague sense of guilt tugged at him as he got up, saying goodbye t  
to Banda and leaving.

So Akutsu had quit tennis in America, and it seemed as though he had no plans to come back to school here in Japan. Sengoku guessed it shouldn't really surprise him, but he found himself making his way back to Akutsu's apartment nonetheless.

Once he was there, Sengoku knocked on the door a few times, but no one answered. He made his way to the window, looking in to see the same cluttered mess, sunlight and shadow filtering over them through the window shades. So no one was home. He got up, about to go when the door next door opened.

"Jin?"

Sengoku looked up to see a middle-aged woman looking at him, her expression going from hopeful to disappointed in a few seconds.

"Who are you?" she asked. "Are you looking for the Akutsus?"

"Umm. . . yeah, but that's okay. I can come back some other time."

The woman narrowed her eyes at him. "You wouldn't happen to be Sengoku, would you?"

"Maybe," Sengoku replied, wondering if he should just lie and say no.

"In that case," the woman said, "you should take your kid. I have to watch my own, you know, it's too unfair to ask me to watch yours when you've got nothing better to do then wait around for Jin anyway."

"What?" Sengoku asked, but the woman disappeared inside her apartment. She reappeared a moment later to shove a large bag and a ball of fur into Sengoku's arms. "Wait a min-"

But she was already slamming the door, leaving Sengoku dumbfounded on the balcony. He was all too aware of the living breathing thing balanced a little too precariously on his arm, still asleep despite all that ruckus. He must have stood there, frozen, for a few minutes.

Sengoku lifted Hitomi to his face, both hands wrapped around her body. She dangled in front of him, limp and breathing deeply. What exactly, Sengoku thought, was he supposed to do? He reached for his cell phone, about to call his sister, when he realized he still hadn't yet told his family about the fact that he had knocked someone up. Well. . . maybe he'd hold off on that for now. He had to tell them in person, at least. Besides, how hard would it be to take care of a baby that was always sleeping?

Sengoku was halfway home when he heard it. It started out as a sniffle, but then it was a little sob, then a full on wail. Sengoku froze as every one on the street stopped the stare at him. He held Hitomi up in front of him, bouncing her up and down a little as her mouth gaped open in large, loud cries.

"Shh," he said, hoping he didn't sound as nervous as he felt. "Shh, it's okay, Daddy's here."

Maybe he should try rocking her? He held her to his chest and rocked her awkwardly for a bit, to no avail.

"Come on, Hitomi, stop crying for Daddy."

The people in the crowd were whispering now. Probably about how young he was to have a kid, Sengoku thought, or maybe about how he was such an awful dad that he couldn't keep his kid from crying. He sped up his pace, rocking her as best he could as he made his way through the streets. Her cries were almost screams now, and he was really getting worried when he felt someone's hand on his arm.

"Sengoku," came Kirihara's voice. "Is that your baby?"

Sengoku turned around, surprised when Kirihara took the baby out of his arms and started cooing at it.

"Aren't you cute," Kirihara said, a huge grin on his face as he made strange faces at the baby. Hitomi's eyes were still mostly shut, so Sengoku debated whether or not she could see him, but he was relieved when her cries started to die down. She was mewing at Kirihara now, her little paws swatting at his face.

"You," Sengoku said, letting out a breath, "you're pretty good with kids."

"It's because I baby-sit Marui-senpai's brothers with him all the time."

"And because he is one himself," came a voice, and Sengoku looked up to see Sanada standing there. Sanada looked as cross as always, but there was a softness in his eyes as he looked down at Hitomi.

"Sanada-fukubuchou," Kirihara cooed, "isn't she cute?"

Kirihara held her up, and Sanada couldn't resist reaching out to pet her cheek. . . only to have her glomp down, hard, on his hand.

"Mother fu. . ." Sanada yanked his hand away and pulled it to his chest, biting his cheeks to keep from cursing in front of the baby. Sengoku chuckled nervously as he grinned at Sanada.

"Sorry," Sengoku said, "I guess he takes after his mother."

"And who might that be?" Sanada asked.

"Akutsu," Sengoku answered. "Akutsu Jin."

There was silence as Sanada and Kirihara stared at him.

"No way," Kirihara finally said. "Well, whatever. You know she needs to be changed, right?"

"Eh?" Senogoku stared at him blankly, prompting Kirihara to frown and sigh.

"Seriously, you have to have diapers, right?"

"Well, I have this bag," Sengoku said, holding up the large duffel (diaper?) bag that Akutsu's neighbor had given him.

The three of them walked to the tiny park area nearby. Under Kirihara's directions, he took off his jacket and placed in on the grass, and Kirihara put the baby down on top of it.

"I hope that doesn't leave grass stains," Sengoku said, eyeing his crisp white uniform jacket.

Kirihara raised an eyebrow as he removed the diaper. "Yeah. I don't think that's what you need to be worrying about."

Sengoku cringed as Kirihara opened the madararui-formulated diaper, revealing the brown and yellow mess inside. The smell struck him in one blow, and Sengoku felt himself leaning back and away. Kirihara gave him a funny look.

"You're not doing a great job as a dad, you know."

"Give me a break," Sengoku protested, "I didn't find out I even had a kid until yesterday. I'm not even supposed to be watching it right now."

"She," Sanada corrected. "She's not an it."

He watched as Sanada handed Kirihara baby wipes and a new diaper, thinking that for two such mentally unstable people, they were doing a pretty good job with this kid. After he was done changing Hitomi Kirihara started playing with her, grabbing at her legs and tail and making noises at her. She waved her appendages obediently, not able to do much more than that and gurgle.

"Sanada-fukubuchou," Kirihara said, looking up at Sanada, "do you think your baby with Atobe's going to be this cute?"

"No. He'll probably look like Atobe."

Kirihara snickered at that. "That's what you say, but. . . secretly, you really like babies."

"Maybe that's why I like you," Sanada said, his voice almost teasing, "you're always acting like one."

Sengoku was about to gag.

"Since when," he interrupted, "were you two so lovey-dovey? Give me back my baby."

He pulled Hitomi off the jacket and into his arms, surprised when she made a strange gooing noise. He looked down. Her eyes were open all the way now, a beautiful golden amber color with flecks of green scattered in them. She cooed at him, on tiny paw gripping onto his shirt, and Sengoku's breath caught.

This was his daughter. For the first time, the thought was concrete and tangible in his mind. His baby.

"We should go anyway," Sanada said. "We still have some shopping to do."

"Oh, yeah."

Both boys got up and started brushing grass off their clothes.

"Are you going to be okay?" Kirihara asked.

"Yeah," Sengoku replied, a finger going to brush against Hitomi's cheek. "We'll be fine."

Several minutes after Kirihara and Sanada left Sengoku got up himself. Hitomi was asleep again, and he was able to pick up his jacket and the bag without waking her up. He made his way home, dreading how his parents and sister were going to react. He finally got to his door, stealing a breath before pushing it open.

"I'm home," he called.

"Welcome home," came three voices, staggered and on top of each other, all coming from the kitchen area. Sengoku made his way there to stand in the doorway. His mother was boiling noodles, her sister was highlighting one of her college textbooks, and his father was reading the newspaper. They hadn't looked up to acknowledge him yet, so he took a deep breath before spitting everything out.

"Every one," he said, "I got some one pregnant."

His sister looked up at him. "Kiyo, you are such a slut."

His mother sighed. "Well, it was bound to happen one of these days."

His father kept reading his newspaper. "I hope you plan on taking responsibility."

But a few minutes later all three of them were around the baby, cooing and petting it. Sengoku was more than happy to take advantage of his family's enthusiasm for the new addition to their family, and he slipped away as his mother took Hitomi from his arms. Making his way back into the hallway, he found a place to lean against it as he dialed Akutsu's phone number.

"What is it," Akutsu muttered when he picked up. "I'm at work."

"I just wanted to let you know that Hitomi's at my house." Sengoku could hear Akutsu shouting something about taking a break to some one on his side of the phone, and then there was clattering and jostling. Finally, things were relatively quiet, and Akutsu turned his attention back to Sengoku.

"Why the fuck do you have her?" Akutsu asked.

"Nuh uh. If I tell you, you'll just hang up, and I want to talk to you for a little bit."

"Fine. Just make it fast."

"Why weren't you at school today?" Sengoku asked.

"You think I have time to go to school now? Diapers are expensive. I have to work, idiot. Kawamura's old man gave me a job at his sushi place."

"Look, I can get a part-time job," Sengoku said. "You can come back to school, we can do it if we're both working part-time."

"Che. School's not my thing anyway. It's better this way."

"Well, I can still get a part-time job. There's no reason for you to do this yourself."

"I'm -"

"She's my daughter too, Akutsu," Sengoku said, already decided. When Akutsu didn't answer he decided to go on. "You know you can't have your neighbor watch her everyday, it's too much of an imposition. My mom doesn't work, she can help out when we're both busy. And you and Hitomi shouldn't be sleeping on a fold-out couch. My parents will help out if we want to get an apartment together-"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Akutsu interrupted, sounding a little angry. "Move in together? Don't be so soft. Just because we have a baby doesn't mean we're a couple."

"Fine. Whatever. Just. . . just, I think, we should be making decisions together, when in comes to Hitomi. You can't just cut me out of her life."

Akutsu was silent for so long Sengoku wasn't sure if he should say something more.

"Bastard," Akutsu finally said, but there was no venom in it. "I didn't think you'd be the kind of guy who'd want to raise a kid at this age. Fine. I get off work early tonight. Bring Hitomi back to my place at ten."

Sengoku smiled as Akutsu hung up on him. The other boy wasn't being nearly as stubborn as Sengoku thought he would. He went back to the kitchen, and joined in as his family took turns playing with Hitomi.

It was seven past ten when Sengoku got back to Akutsu's apartment. The space was filled with the low hum of the television, set on some channel that Sengoku knew Akutsu hadn't even been watching. It was just noise, more than anything else. Hitomi had started sniffling, a little bit, and the first thing Akutsu did was take her from Sengoku.

"Has she eaten yet?" he asked.

"About four hours ago," Sengoku replied. "But my mom said she'd probably want to eat again right around now."

"You think I don't know that?" Akutsu already had a bottle ready, and cradled the baby hyena in his arms as he fed her. Sengoku thought it looked strangely natural, Akutsu Jin feeding a baby. There had always been a kind of softness to Akutsu. Sengoku supposed that it was how he was able to gather such devoted friends, despite being such a pretty scary guy most of the time. Kawamura and Dan, and even Sengoku himself. Honestly, it wasn't so surprising that he would actually make a good mother.

It didn't take long to feed Hitomi, and then Akutsu was burping her over his shoulder as he walked into Yuuki s room. She was already asleep by the time he laid her down there, and he closed the door and went back into the living room.

"Is she okay in there?" Sengoku asked, already making himself comfortable on the couch.

"Yuuki won't be back until late, and I figure it's better than us waking her up."

"Yeah? Are we going to be doing something that might wake her up?" Sengoku grinned, but Akutsu chose to ignore him and take a seat beside him. Still, Akutsu hadn't really said no, and they had been in this same situation so many times before. . . alone, on the couch, just the television on and no one to interrupt them.

Just because they had a baby, Sengoku told himself, didn't mean they were a couple, but he could already feel himself getting half hard.

"I haven't had sex since I found out I was pregnant," Akutsu muttered, eyes suddenly dark. They shared a heavy look between them before Akutsu pounced, always the more aggressive of the two of them. He pushed Sengoku down on the couch and pushed their mouths together in a violent, bruising kiss.

"Akutsu," Sengoku said, once he was able to, "wait-"

"You don't have a choice in this," Akutsu said, bringing their lips together and grinding his hips, just so, as he straddled Sengoku's lap. Sengoku moaned as their cocks ground against each other, both obviously hard through the fabric of their pants.

"Besides," Akutsu said, licking his lips, "your ears are showing."

Sengoku could feel his canines growing as well, could feel them draw a little bit of blood when Akutsu stuck his tongue in his mouth. He was pretty awful at controlling his kon-gen when he was having sex, and he had lovers tell him that it was almost like fucking a dog. Which had always made him wonder how they would know something like that.

Sengoku leaned back on the arm of the couch as he decided not to fight it. He closed his eyes, just enjoying the feel of Akutsu's tongue on his and Akutsu's smell around him. It made him dizzy, but considering Akutsu was a heavy-weight, that was to be expected. He was only really half-aware of Akutsu tearing at his pants, didn't realize his cock was out until Akutsu pulled away from their kiss.

He opened his eyes to see Akutsu straddling him, pants off, cock thick and dripping onto his stomach. Akutsu had Sengoku's cock in his hand, and held it in position as he lowered himself into it.

"Wait," Sengoku panted, cringing at the tightness pushing onto him.

"Shut up," Akutsu muttered back.

It was so tight, too tight, he had to be hurting the other boy. But Akutsu's head was thrown back as he forced himself onto Sengoku's dick, his lips parted, such pleasure written over his face that Sengoku could start coming right then and there. Akutsu lowered himself centimeter by centimeter, and it seemed to take forever, but finally Sengoku was buried to the hilt inside of him. Akutsu all but collapsed on his chest, his head buried in the nape of Sengoku's neck, both of them breathing deeply from how amazing it felt.

Akutsu felt so damn good around him. Tight and hot, and Sengoku could feel his dick still growing inside of the other boy. His knot was forming, at the base of his cock, and Akutsu moaned as his hole had to stretch and accommodate the large lump.

"Fuck," Akutsu was saying, over and over again, voice breathy and low. "Hurry up and start already."

Sengoku buried a hand in Akutsu's hair and closed his eyes, letting the other boy's scent wash over him. It was all he needed to start coming, and his cock twitched as it sent the first long stream of cum into Akutsu's ass. That stream was followed by another, than another, each one more forceful then the last. Sengoku knew that Akutsu could feel it, could feel Sengoku filling him up, because he shivered with every surge of cum.

Sengoku spent a good ten minutes filling the other boy, it felt so good. Every time Akutsu moved, every brush of Akutsu's palm against his skin, and Sengoku was cumming again. When he was done he became vaguely aware of the stickiness in between them, of Akutsu's post-coitus panting. But they were still joined together, would be tied together like this until Sengoku's knot went down.

"Fuck," Akutsu murmured, words hot against the skin of his neck, "that was good."

Sengoku chuckled at that, running his hands up and down the hard muscles of Akutsu's back. They laid there in silence for awhile, enjoying how it felt to be tied together.

"I think," Sengoku said, only now becoming aware of the rattle digging into his back, "it would be really nice if we could live together."

He held his breath as he waited for Akutsu to answer. But finally the other boy just snorted, muttering what sounded like "fine" into his neck.

Sengoku smiled. Maybe, he thought, they could be a couple after all.


End file.
